White and Black
by EK
Summary: COMPLETE. Platinum/Jade. From heartfelt enemies, they became wonderful friends. Now Misao is out to save her new friend--maybe more--from forces beyond his control, and to know his place in her heart. Will she succeed?
1. a summer afternoon

Hello everyone. This is EK again, with the promised follow-through, not exactly a sequel, to Nine Months. It is not necessary for you to read Nine Months (although I'd like that very much!), but it would be helpful for you to read Chap 15 "espionage" to get a better understanding of why this work was born. I will be expanding the concept here, and will be repeating the material necessary. I am not the first to this concept, though, Midori Natari Himura was, at least on FF.net. But still, I hope you read my stuff and like it.  
  
This first chapter is me, collecting my thoughts. I've found out that writing out the first chap helps with thinking out the rest.  
  
Um, could someone please tell me who is Okon and who is Omasu, between the two Oniwabanshuu girls? And the names of the guys? Thanks!  
  
(Thanks to the first 6 reviewers, who reviewed even if they only saw a summary. WHAT happened to FF.net?!)  
  
...........  
  
Everything was back to normal.  
  
Aoshi and Misao were back in Kyoto, after a spring-long vacation in Tokyo with the Himuras.  
  
It had been a very enjoyable three months, watching Kenshin and Kaoru enjoy and endure married life, assisting with little things, seeing the new baby arrive, helping give his name. Their other old friends were there, too, Sanosuke and Yahiko and Megumi. The formidable Kenshin-gumi was complete for a few joyful weeks.  
  
But life had to go on.  
  
Okina eventually needed them back at the Aioya, and they heeded his request.  
  
Megumi had gone back to Aizu soon after the baby was born, after giving instructions and demonstrating a few things to the couple. She had also left a detailed list of signs and symptoms for common childhood diseases, and another list of medicines they should keep available for emergencies.  
  
Yahiko, now fully a teenager, decided to live apart from the Himuras. In exchange for this freedom, he agreed to go into training, to be assistant teacher for the Kamiya dojo. Kaoru had decided that he was fully capable. He knew the entire school up to the succession technique. He had never failed to practice and hone his sword skills. He also had the confidence and competence that most adults fail to obtain. While he was in training, it was also agreed that he continue to serve the Akabeko, side by side with Tsubame, until he decides to stop-which was not anytime soon.  
  
Soon after Megumi left, and Yahiko was settled in new quarters, Sanosuke also left. A grand tour of Japan, he said, before he traipsed all over China and the rest of the world again. He wanted to remember his mother country very well, before he left it for good. Kenshin and Kaoru knew better than to stop him, so they bid him farewell, with the offer of their house whenever he was back in town.  
  
And Misao and Aoshi were back in Kyoto. Misao filled the Aioya's residents with funny tales about their stay in Tokyo. How clueless Himura was about the coming baby when they met with them. How stingy Himura was with the money. How, in the first place, Himura actually got a stable job for himself, which Kaoru told her. How Kaoru ate pickles with cake, together. How the birthing happened. How they celebrated soon after that. The Oniwabanshuu laughed long and hard at all her stories. They had all missed this young bundle of energy and joy.  
  
Yes, everything was back to normal.  
  
Another beautiful summer day. Another quiet day Aoshi spent in the temple to meditate. Misao though did not see the point in losing this day to a temple. She gave her Aoshi-sama a quick visit, said goodbye, and skipped on to the bustle of the Kyoto market. She still preferred it over the markets in Tokyo, which lived for the fast sell and the quick bargain. Here, most of the booths were still in the old style. There were fewer Western goods here, and more of the tradition foods she loved to eat for a few coins. Here, she was home.  
  
She was strolling rather aimlessly as the summer sun reached its height. She began to think about a good lunch and a nap being two wonderful things on a summer afternoon. Her mind floated to dreamland, as her feet continued to take her straight through the busy streets.  
  
Life was beautiful, she mused. Okina was still around for her. Aoshi-sama loved her. Her friends kept her company. Himura and Kaoru-san back in Tokyo were fine, too. All was right in the world. She had a right to be happy today.  
  
She did not notice a man directly in front of her. She ran into him completely, then fell on her bottom. She quickly shook her head to regain orientation with reality.  
  
"Watch where you're going....." the man grumbled, then stopped, as he took a good look at Misao. He looked surprised, even awestruck to see her. ".....weasel."  
  
"Who are you calling a weasel, you...." Misao demanded in confusion. She knew she was addressing a white tower of a man, but she was still too dazed to notice who.  
  
"The weasel...Makimachi...." the man murmured again.  
  
"Look mister, I'm sorry for bumping into you," Misao stood up from where she sat on the ground, and raised herself to her full short height. She found that she did not even reach the taller man's shoulders. She brushed the dust off her loose-fitting ninja outfit, and patted her bottom. "Still, nobody has the RIGHT to call me a weasel! I am Makimachi Misao-----HEY, wait a minute! How do you know my name?!"  
  
"We meet again, Makimachi," he replied simply.  
  
That was when Misao finally looked up at the man talking to her. Her dark green eyes opened wide.  
  
It was him.  
  
Black leather boots. Impeccably white slacks. Dark colored glasses. Chinese suit of pure white silk, a dark purple stripe lining each side two inches from the buttons. Black leather hat, covering snow-white hair.  
  
Enishi.  
  
Misao froze.  
  
"I see you remember me now, Makimachi," he spoke again with a tinge of sadness. "I understand that you have a right and a reason to fear me. But I will make you understand, Makimachi. You have nothing to fear."  
  
The man removed his glasses for a few minutes, as he gazed on the young woman staring at his eyes, determining any sign of deceit or treachery in them. Her eyes were beautiful in their innocence, he thought. Inquisitive eyes, but eyes that sought the truth, satisfied with nothing else. The eyes of a courageous girl slowly changing into a brave woman.  
  
She was satisfied. The girl averted her steady gaze, then gave a wide smile, and offered a handshake.  
  
"Mi-Misao. Call me Misao."  
  
.................  
  
I have a feeling this will a bit tough, not in the same way that Nine Months was tough to make. Some of you already know that I write best in comedy, and that I'm not too good with romance and angst. So suggestions here and there are very welcome.  
  
Yes, I know Nine Months isn't finished yet when I upload this. It WILL be finished, I promise. ^^V So the next chapter to this new fic will take a while to come, if it is fine with everybody. In the meantime, suggestions to the flow of the story are welcome. 


	2. a most unusual luncheon

This chapter is a little backgrounder on this matchup. Majority of the material here was taken from Nine Months. However, those of you who have read "espionage" will find that some new things have been added.  
  
This fic actually is here because a lot of people clamored to have more of Eni-chan; and a lot of people liked a concept I used, having no other idea how to finish up Misao's spy mission in Nine Months.  
  
As you might already know or have noticed, I'm developing an alternate triangle. Again, Midori Natari Himura deserves first rights, and I'm just continuing a trend. ^^  
  
................  
  
---Remember what I said, Makimachi. I might see you again in Kyoto.---  
  
Misao remembered, very well.  
  
In her hand she held a small brooch. A golden weasel.  
  
---Weasel of the Kyoto Oniwabanshuu!---  
  
He had given the brooch to her, by post, after a most unusual luncheon with him. Once she could not quickly forget.  
  
............  
  
It happened roughly four months ago, back in Tokyo. Kaoru was still pregnant with Kenji, and she and Kenshin had gone shopping. She decided to tail them, into a clothing store. Unfortunately, she was not too careful.  
  
As she hid behind a pile of fabric, someone pulled out the roll she was leaning on. Out she tumbled, followed by rolls upon rolls of fabric. Soon she was flat on the floor as a man stood in front of her.  
  
"What is the meaning of this, weasel? Are you still spying on me?" the man demanded in a very irritated voice.  
  
As she rubbed her sore bottom, Misao looked for her accuser---and stared in alarm at a tall man in white, wearing a brown hat to cover white hair. She quickly turned bright red.  
  
"Y-y-you! Why are you still here in T-T-Tokyo? We thought you left! Ps-Ps- Psy----no-----Yukishiro-san!"  
  
He replied in a suave yet gently fierce voice, "None of your concern why I am still here, weasel of the Kyoto Oniwabanshuu! Why are YOU still in Tokyo? Now get lost, little girl!"  
  
"I am NOT a little girl, you white-haired-----aaaack, forget about it!" She rose up to leave. "And for your information, I was not spying on you." She tossed her proud head at him, and turned the corner.  
  
Two hours later, Misao discovered that she had lost the Himuras yet again. She crawled out from under a table - and bumped her head directly into a tower of white.  
  
"You again!" he addressed her. "Look, check the books back in Kyoto, we have nothing to hide! Now what do you want to know?" He looked at her with condescension. "Do you have anything to say for yourself, weasel?"  
  
"Makimachi Misao desu yo!!" she finally and angrily answered. "I am NOT a weasel, I am NOT spying on you, I am NOT after you at all, you white-haired conceited baka!!"  
  
She began to march off, but the white-haired conceited baka laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Explain yourself over lunch." He commanded without any small hint of a smile.  
  
LUNCH?! She shook her head hard. Why should I even consider having lunch with that psycho?!  
  
"If you do not come with me right now, I will take you personally to the precinct and have you arrested, for being a public nuisance!" The hand tightened on her shoulder, until she almost cried out in pain. She complied.  
  
The man in the Chinese suit escorted her rather respectfully into the best restaurant in Tokyo. He still had his hand on her shoulder, as if he wanted to emphasize his superiority over her, in more ways than one. He was taller, he was richer, he was stronger, he was more powerful. Yet, for some strange reason, Misao felt no hostility in that hand. It was laid on her tight enough to prevent her from escaping, yet gentle enough not to be painful.  
  
She tried to look into his mysterious turquoise eyes, but they looked straight ahead at the street, and were hidden by his dark colored glasses. She never understood why he had them. They were too small to be much use against harsh sunlight, and they were also too dark to be used for reading. If however, his intention was to prevent others from seeing his eyes directly, then the glasses were quite effective.  
  
When they reached the restaurant, the other customers summarily looked at the odd couple. A man and a woman. White and black. Tall and short. Sullen and animated. Stylish and functional.  
  
One snobby waiter discreetly pointed out Misao's skimpy outfit and dusty footwear to the white-haired young man. "Well, what of it, you fool?" he sneered. "She is my guest, and you will treat her as such...unless, of course, you want me to eat elsewhere..."  
  
The waiter had no other recourse but to let them into a private booth.  
  
The white-haired businessman quickly ordered two of the house specials.  
  
Fifteen minutes of silence, as each took stock of the other. What was he planning to do? What did she think of this absurd scheme? What would happen immediately after this meeting? Would she squeal on him? Would he take her away someplace?  
  
Generous servings of rice, salmon, tuna, roast beef, and vegetables were soon served. A lacquer box full of the restaurant's best sushi arrived a few minutes later. Misao merely glared at the grand spread, eyes defiant and challenging.  
  
"Well, what are you staring at the food for, weasel?" he asked as he cocked his glasses. "It's not tainted, if that is what's stopping you."  
  
"What do you want from me, Yukishiro-san?" she folded her arms and pointed her nose to the ceiling. "An Oniwabanshuu ninja does not give information easily!"  
  
"Oh, is that so, weasel?"  
  
"Makimachi Misao desu yo!!"  
  
"Makimachi, then." He removed his dark spectacles and placed them on the table. "I do not want information about the Oniwabanshuu. I do not want information about Himura Battousai. I only want information about you."  
  
"Whatever for?!" she asked in disbelief, as her eyes moved between his gray eyes and his grand tempting feast.  
  
"You will find out, eventually."  
  
He filled her with questions about herself, her life, her acquaintance with Battousai, her purpose for being in Tokyo. Under the spell of those penetrating eyes, Misao answered question upon question. Her answers came first with apprehension, then with doubt, then with slight misgivings, and finally without holding anything back. How she cajoled her Aoshi-sama into coming with her to Tokyo, presumably on a mission, in reality to learn about married life. How she had grown to admire Himura about as much as Aoshi-sama. She even told him about Okina and her other friends back in Kyoto. The delicious food in front of her only spurned her on. More questions only served to increase her appetite.  
  
He gazed at her in amusement. There was such exuberant life in her whole self, and it showed in her eyes, her smile, her whole face. It was as if he was looking at an uncut, unpolished gem. She was such a girl yet, eating ravenously, wolfing down the fish and rice served before her. However, she had the makings of a beautiful diamond in her soul.  
  
"I have one last question, Makimachi," he stated after a long silence. Misao was more keenly aware of his dark eyes.  
  
"Is there a chance someone could pursue a relationship with you? I, for instance?" he ended with a smile that Misao felt to her bones.  
  
"YOU?!" Her eyes almost fell out of their sockets.  
  
"Well, why not?" he continued confidently. "Many people would think I would have liked Himura's woman, taken her as my own. Now I might have been obsessive, but I was not dense! I knew there was no other man for her except Himura. It was on that knowledge that my plans ALMOST worked. Besides, she did not suit me. True, her face reminded me of my nee-san, but she was her direct opposite. She couldn't cook, she was rather whiney. And she had this terrible damsel-in-distress aura about her!"  
  
Misao almost broke her lacquered chopsticks. How DARE you say that about my friend, you fiend!  
  
"You, on the other hand, Makimachi, you speak your mind, and I rather like that in a woman. Furthermore, you are not afraid of anyone, even when there is no one to back you up. Even your clothes tell me that you do not care if you stand out."  
  
The man was gazing at her face. Not the eerie glares he used to give her and the others, but another kind of stare, one that gave a girl a warm sensation.  
  
"For someone who always plans his moves, someone who always works with a strategy, it is wonderful to encounter someone who is spontaneous and open about her ideas and feelings. Someone you are not afraid of approaching, wondering what she could be thinking about you. Her thoughts show on her face, her ideas come out of her speech without reservation."  
  
Confused feelings flew through her heart. Feelings of hate, disgust and fear, were somehow mixed with thoughts of appreciation, admiration....maybe more......  
  
"And I think that you could actually be very attractive, if given the right clothes and accessories, taught a few graces..."  
  
"So this is the agenda behind treating me to lunch?" Misao interrupted.  
  
"Yes." He gave her a mysterious grin.  
  
"Now, see here," Misao stood up, and stared down at the white-haired man. "If this is your idea of asking a girl out, then you could just forget it! Thank you truly for lunch, the food was spectacular, it was an unforgettable experience. Now, if you will excuse me, sir, I have to get back to Aoshi-sama. Aoshi-sama, you hear?!"  
  
Misao opened the door of the booth and stomped out, a whole restaurant staring after her.  
  
"Remember what I said, Makimachi," he warned through the booth. "I might still see you in Kyoto."  
  
............  
  
In one hand, Misao held the golden weasel. She had taken it out of its box only this once, and it was as beautiful as the day it was given to her.  
  
In the other hand, Misao held an open letter. A short one. It simply read: "Dinner at the Shirobeko. 8 o'clock in the evening. Come as you are."  
  
She had eaten at the Shirobeko countless times, but why was she shaking inside?  
  
Because of the solitary character at the end of the note. As complicated, as sophisticated as the man it named.  
  
She did not want to remember that afternoon. Enishi wanted her to consider knowing, maybe even loving, another man. It was impossible. Her heart belonged to Aoshi-sama, and no other. Absolutely no other man.  
  
She was not afraid, with the former fear and hatred she had of this infamous maniac. Something inside of her said that the maniac was buried. A new purpose in life drove him now, a new fascination with humanity ran through his heart. But she was afraid of this new man, still changing, still learning, as she was. She did not know what was in his mind, in his thoughts, in his heart. She did not know what to expect out of him. And surely, she did not know what place in herself she should give him.  
  
"Misao, the messenger is waiting for your answer." Omasu reminded her from the front porch, and brought her back to reality.  
  
It had only been two days since that chance meeting in the market. They had soon parted after the handshake. Misao congenially gave him the address to the Aioya. He pointed in the direction of his mansion. Then she left it at that and forgot about it.  
  
"Misao, well? What am I going to tell the messenger?" Omasu insisted.  
  
But still, he made her remember.  
  
"Tell him I'll be coming," Misao answered with hesitation.  
  
This time, though, she wanted to know why.  
  
............  
  
Some of you already know why Eni-chan has money for fine dining and a mansion. I will be explaining his history again, in relation to this story, in the next chappie. I still don't understand myself why I keep calling him Eni-chan. In relation to my age, he should be Yukishiro-sempai. ^_^ As to NOT treating Yukishiro-sempai like a psycho, a handsome weirdo, or an obsessive lover: I want him to be seen otherwise! That's my and Midori's current mission in ff.net. Besides, I have enough weird actual three- dimensional human beings in my life to be imagining more weirdos.  
  
I can't seem to really get under his skin yet, the way Midori does. Think like him and all. I can think like Misao better, that's why the material for the most part stays in Misao's point of view.  
  
Keep reading, please! 


	3. a new relationship

Um, my author name is EK, not because I am an E/K fan. ^^ It's a college nickname I managed to pick up, even before I learned to love RK so much. Sorry, but I'm solid K/K. I think that's why I'm supporting alternate matchups.  
  
Midori has one take on this part of Eni-chan's history, very believable, actually. I will not be plagiarizing this. I am taking another route. I understand that he surrendered the organization to Heishin, therefore I am of the opinion that he would have no money and no assets of his own, immediately after the end of RK. You will also notice that I work in dialogue, and not so much in description, which a directly opposite writing style from Midori's. ^^ But for all intents, she writes better.  
  
Again, some material was taken from Nine Months (chapter 14 "conversations"), but not much, as you will see. Two weeks before the next chapter, gomen. I'll be busy. ^^  
  
.............  
  
"How much do you remember, Makimachi?"  
  
White and black were facing each other, seated at the Shirobeko. In front of them was a modest spread, sufficient to provide a hearty meal but not excessive to create suspicion. Enishi simply wore dark slacks over a white pressed shirt, long-sleeved and tieless. Spectacles were stuffed into a pants pockets, so the young woman had complete access to his eyes. Misao took pains to look her neatest in her favorite loose ninja outfit. Her hair was rebraided and arranged nicely at her back.  
  
She was anxious nervous, and she showed it. He was uneasy nervous, but his suave demeanor betrayed none of his qualms.  
  
"Well, let me see, Yukishiro-san---"  
  
"You would be wise to keep your voice down, Makimachi," Enishi warned with a deadly calm. "I am known in Tokyo and Kyoto as Shiroyuki Shinichi. Just as a precaution, you understand, although I sincerely doubt if anyone is still after me."  
  
"Shiroyuki Shinichi...hm...not bad," Misao contemplated with a business-like air. "Close enough to the real name not to be forgotten, but changed enough not to arouse suspicion. But, um, what do I call you now?"  
  
"It will depend on your answers.....Makimachi," he answered without commitment. "How much do you remember? Of what I told you all some time ago?"  
  
"Oh, that!" Misao scratched her head sheepishly under his steady gaze. She brought her memories back to an afternoon at the Kamiya dojo, when the entire Kenshin-gumi was surprised at his sudden appearance. The meeting was civil and neutral. Himura and Yukishiro separated with kindeness from both sides.  
  
"Here is what I remember.....You escaped from the police ship.......you fled to Rakuninmura.....an old man somehow knocked some sense into you......you went back to Kyoto on foot.....put Tomoe's diary back in the temple where Aoshi-sama and I got it in the first place.....you met an old friend here......you started a business.......and basically, that's it."  
  
"Very good, Makimachi," Enishi complimented at the end with a slight smirk. "Despite all the awful names you and your annoying companions called me then, you had the good sense to listen well."  
  
Misao blushed as red as the tuna sashimi before her. It was true. When Enishi appeared before the tenants of the Kamiya dojo five months ago, Misao, Yahiko, and Sanosuke only had words of hate for the tall white- haired man. They accused him of trying to bribe his way into Himura's good graces with a generous gift. They directly asked him if he was member of the yakuza, the Japanese mafia. Without a tinge of remorse or respect, they called Yukishiro Enishi, to his face: a pompous, exasperating, conceited, white-haired, high and mighty, infuriating, arrogant-psycho.  
  
Now the psycho was only a few inches away from her, fully capable of drawing out a gun and shooting a bullet between her eyes, just punishment for her being such a childish tormentor. So what was he doing, treating his greatest taunt for dinner? Reverse psychology?  
  
Misao managed to muster enough nerve to glance at his eyes.  
  
But he was.....laughing. Actually laughing. At her.  
  
She pouted. "What's so funny, erm, Shiroyuki-san?"  
  
"Your face, Makimachi. I could read your face like a book!" His shoulders were shaking rather hard.  
  
His laughter however did not have the same terrifying aspect Misao remembered that it had 2 years ago. Right now, it was simple, joyful mirth. Much like the kind of laughter she heard out of Himura on a good day, when he did not know what else to make of the world and his ragtag family.  
  
"I apologize for being so rude, Makimachi," he said after some more teasing peals. "It was wonderful to look at your embarrassed face. You remembered everything you said to me, I suppose?"  
  
"Don't rub it in.." she fumed.  
  
"Sumimasen deshita, Makimachi," he apologized a second time. "It is the first time I have encountered anyone with so truthful a face, with such easy provocation. It took my brother-in-law some hard punches and a long speech before I got the same reaction. I seriously welcome your truthful face."  
  
Misao's truthful face turned into a question mark.  
  
"The business world, legal or illegal, is a dog-eat-dog world," he hastened to explain. "Oftentimes, a man must learn to hide his true intentions in order to achieve his goals. It becomes a part of his life, a part of his being, to wear a mask. He accepts is as one of the ladders to success. But on those days that he sees a face such as yours, one so open and honest, he wishes for the days that it were not so."  
  
Once again he took on a serious, contemplative air. It was as if he had forgotten the presence of Misao in particular, but was vaguely aware of an honest listener nearby.  
  
"The first day in Kyoto, I was suddenly aware of the people, rushing to and fro, conducting this business or that. Nobody cared about me, and as far as I was concerned then, I did not care. But I was tired, quite penniless, and hungry, from the long trip from Tokyo to Kyoto. I was exactly in the same situation I found myself to be in, 14 years ago, in Shanghai. I tried to look for some place in Kyoto much like Rakuninmura, but I was too weak, too spent to search for long.  
  
"I woke up at a rich man's house, wounds dressed and tended. Within a few hours, the man who saved me introduced himself, and I recognized him to be a childhood acquaintance of mine. He told me I was welcome to stay at his home for as long as necessary. I was skeptical, but grateful. I gave a rough outline of my life until he found me, many details omitted of course. But I did tell him that the police were still after me. He was the one who suggested that I take another name for the time being.  
  
"Soon I felt that I had to repay all his kindness to me, some way, somehow. A few walks around Kyoto pointed out to me the lack of metalworks services, much like could be found in Tokyo. From Shanghai, I had experience in weaponry, which I figured could be put to honest use in another business venture. I laid out some plans before him, and he agreed to support them. He financed the venture, and I provided the hands-on management. It was a good arrangement.  
  
"The business soared, even faster than I imagined. With a combination of reasonable control and generous wages, people were happy to work for us. The quality of our services made clients come back for more. In a year and a half, I was in the same financial level as when I left the Chinese mafia. As you know, I was in Tokyo a few months ago, with the intent of expanding the business there and to nearby countries.  
  
"So, as you say....basically, that's it."  
  
Misao listened to the narration quietly as she munched on her sukiyaki. What he left out, she could assume. It proved to her his aggressive personality, his power over people.....but also his change of heart. A soul set on revenge was replaced by a heart meant for..at least some degree of kindness.  
  
"Your face is telling me, 'So what does Yukishiro Enishi need this worthless little weasel for?' " he teased, chin rested on his hands, elbows on the table.  
  
"I am NOT a WEASEL!!" she protested.  
  
"Whatever you say, Makimachi," he teased again, then brushed aside his remark. "Well, what do I need you for? A mission. Something close to your trade, Makimachi."  
  
"Could you please stop calling me 'Makimachi', it's getting on my nerves! Himura at least is used to being called by his last name, but he called me Misao like everyone else."  
  
He ignored the complaint. "I require personal information on how to acquire....um, I do not know what to call it..."  
  
Misao did not understand either.  
  
"I always envied Himura on that aspect. He was always surrounded by reliable companions. Not the type I was acquainted with. They were only loyal to you as long as you were beneficial to them. They could strike your back at any moment they desired if you were not careful with your words, agreements, or movements.  
  
"But Himura did not have alliances like that. True, most of you got on my patience. You were all too noisy! You said all of those things about Himura not losing to anyone, even if you did not have solid proof. However, you all sounded so sincere, so trusting, it was hard to ignore. Therefore, in a way, it was not a final one-on-one battle that Himura and I had. I was at the disadvantage from the beginning. There were eight people against one of me.  
  
His face was now as readable to Misao as hers was to him a few moments earlier. It was filled with regret at losing something he did not even have.  
  
"In the business world as well, even my childhood acquaintance could not be that kind of companion that I seek. We discuss work and assets and liabilities. He has my trust, and I have his-but there is something lacking.  
  
"I do not know what you call that kind of alliance that you have, and I want to know. When I said I wanted to 'pursue a relationship' with you, it was not with the intention that most of you women place on the term- although THAT intention might not be such a bad thing in the future. I want to 'pursue a relationship' with you, for lack of a better word.  
  
"If you consent, I should like to learn how to have a trustworthy alliance with you, be a reliable companion, a dependable associate------"  
  
Now, Misao understood.  
  
"You want to be friends with me?"  
  
"Aa. I think that's what they call it." And he lowered his snowy head.  
  
Misao was taken aback. She who had grown up surrounded by loyal friends and compatriots, could not comprehend that there was someone in the world who did not have even one friend. Friends were a given in life! Friends make life worth living! Friends keep you up when you are down, and rejoice with you when you are up.  
  
No wonder he turned out this way......  
  
"But surely there's someone older than me who could be friends with you....I'm only 19, and you're..."  
  
"26."  
  
"See, you're even older than Aoshi-sama! Look, I'll let you get acquainted with Aoshi-sama, you can get talking....."  
  
"No, not Shinomori. Not for now. I would not like to be stuck in a one-sided conversation," he explained.  
  
"You've got a point," Misao sweatdropped.  
  
She put out her hand again for a handshake. "Well, if that's how you want it, it's fine with me. I DID make friends with a man twelve years my senior, and it's OK with him. Now will you please be so kind as to call me Misao?! No -dono, either! Just Misao."  
  
"Mi-sao. Got it." He took out his right hand as well. "Please do not call me by surname, either. Enishi is fine. People could assume it was a nickname from Shinichi."  
  
They shook hands.  
  
"Friends?"  
  
"Friends."  
  
  
  
..........  
  
Name analysis for Enishi at www.kabalarians.com/male/enishi.htm VERY accurate.  
  
I hope no one objects. I am sticking to Shiroyuki Shinichi as an alternate name. Other possibilities I had in mind didn't sound as good as this one. The surname is taken, of course, by reversing the original surname. "Shinichi" (I have absolutely no idea what it is in kanji form, but it's probably two characters), is taken since it sounds close to Enishi, and because Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan, from Detective Conan, is one of my favorite anime characters. ^_^ Nobody please ask me to write for Detective Conan. I can't write mysteries!!  
  
Please remember that it is now 2 years after the end of Jinchuu arc, that's why Misao is now 19 and Enishi 26. One disadvantage to this pairing: age gap. Oh, well.  
  
Thanks to the reviewers who know me from Nine Months, and thanks to my new reviewers!  
  
Responses, responses:  
  
Midori Natari Himura has written me a very nice email. She's very OK with me continuing this, and encouraging the E/M movement, if there's such a thing. So happy!!  
  
Cleao-thanks for the initial support!  
  
Chavi West-wind-I'm bringing it on, as you can see. Thanks for the continuing support! Oh, and -sempai is a term Japanese students use for classmates in a higher level. If I'm a freshman, and Kaoru is a sophomore or a junior, I'd call Kaoru, Kaoru-sempai if she's close to me, or Kamiya- sempai if she's not too close to me. I'm currently 21, and Enishi is 24 at Jinchuu arc, so he's older than me. He's rightfully Yukishiro-sempai, but I prefer calling him Eni-chan. ^_^  
  
Amy-hope you're enjoying what you're getting so far! Yup, reviews make me a happy writer! I have a feeling I'll have fewer from the ones I got for Nine Months, but that's OK. I'll keep typing this up until it's done. ^^  
  
Mikazuki-Sorry you only got to read a summary. I hope you're enjoying it the present material.  
  
Firuze Khanume-Hi, nee-san! Hope I can get your support in this fic as well! I can't BELIEVE Eni-chan's your favorite RK person! You really know him through and through!! The points about the supernatural sightings are well taken. You're so right. Oh, and I've seen your sitey, it's cool! ^^  
  
Filia M.-Well, as for picking Enishi, that's what this story is for. ^^  
  
Sabbie-Thanks for the enthusiastic support. The suggestions are awesome, thanks! Kamatari, um, I don't know him that well, so maybe he won't make an appearance. ^^ I have the plot to a Vandread little story drafted out, but I haven't written it yet. Unfortunately, it won't be Duero/Parfet. ^_^ And not Hibiki/Dita either. So that leaves....^^  
  
Siomei-Thanks for the support. Yes, some things in chapter 2 are copy/paste-ed. As for my matchup. I have the Jinchuu arc manga you see, and for all I stare at Volume 26 and 28, absolutely nothing happens between Enishi and Kaoru. There isn't that fuzzy feeling in the artwork that you have with Kenshin and Kaoru, and Misao and Aoshi, and Sano and Megumi. So this concept has a fighting chance.  
  
Phelin-Well, Aoshi needs Misao in a way, as a counterbalance to all the quiet. ^_^ But Eni-chan also needs someone like Misao as well.  
  
Nekonomiko-Thanks for converting to our movement. ^^ Really, there are already a lot of E/M fics? Gomen, I didn't know!  
  
Bella-Give me time to explain myself. Eni-chan isn't as horrible as many people think he is.  
  
Marah-Thanks for liking it so far. But personally I think the yaoi pairings are the weirdest, especially for RK where there are enough girls to go around. ^^  
  
Stelok/Zauriel-Oh, you noticed my post at your Vandread fic? ^^ Hello, kabayan! Don't worry about it. I always write better in English, and most of the time I speak better in English. You're not alone. Hope you keep reading!  
  
Yen-I promise to make the choice harder for you! ^_^  
  
Fehrocious-Hi again! Thanks much for the compliments. Just please don't expect Midori's level of romance...I can't imagine romance like she does!  
  
That's everyone so far. I hope you keep reading! 


	4. a simple lullaby

Sorry for the delay. I was busy last week. I have a bad prelim score (from writing a Nine Months chap  ^^)  that I have to fix, so I hope you won't mind a few day's wait for the next chappie.   

The concept of this chapter had a whole week to brew. Some Tsuioku Hen stuff mixed in. Hope you like it.  

Disclaimer:  I can't read French.  I know English and my native language, and I'm trying to learn Japanese. Oh, and Eni-chan isn't mine to keep.   ^^  

……………………………………….

Days and weeks passed.  

Okon and Omasu were filled with stories about Misao's romps around Kyoto with her new friend. Her descriptions about the friend in particular were sketchy, though. So far they had discovered that the friend was a new gentleman in Kyoto, evidently a metalworks businessman. And that he was quite rich.  

When they asked for the gentleman's name, Misao always gave it as "Shinichi", always. She was an Oniwabanshuu, tried and trained, thus she knew that her Aoshi-sama could be lingering behind a wall or a corner at any time. Better safe than sorry. Her Aoshi-sama might not understand why for goodness' sakes she was friends with an old enemy.  She could not guess what he might do if he ever found out.  

She could not understand herself why she was friends with an old enemy. She had hated him with all the wrath she held in her heart.  He had kidnapped her girlfriend. He had sent her redheaded friend to the depths of hell and back. What right had he to her understanding, to her friendship? 

But she was learning, slowly, that it was different now. 

It was probably something in his eyes, those sad, grey-blue eyes. They had a hypnotic power on her. They had always pleaded for her to know the depths of his heart. They practically begged for her to be with him. 

Know me for who I am, not for what people make of me.  

What was it that she felt now for the white-hair, she had often mused.  Pity? Mercy? That was what Himura and Kaoru-san had for him. Kindness? More than that. Affection? She was not sure.  Whatever it was, something always drew her to him, made her spend countless afternoons with him, made her want to know him more, made her stay.   

The tall young man had already invited Misao into his house—if it could still be called a house. Only the government buildings and hotels were larger than this concept of Western architecture that was his residence. Two floors, with the first floor acting as a large function room. Not less than ten rooms. A dining room that could seat 30 people at a time. A library larger and wider than the whole of the Shirobeko. A guest bedroom that could easily fit the Akabeko's bedspace, and have square feet to spare.  

"And you live here alone?" Misao bluntly asked him, the first time she came.  

"There are servants of various sorts that serve the house, so you can't say I stay here alone," Enishi had replied. 

"No, I mean, no one LIVES here with you?"  

She was answered with a thoughtful silence. 

The entire mansion was tastefully decorated, with Japanese, Chinese, and Western influences. French lounge chair lay in harmony with a soft American-style feather bed, surrounded by samples of excellent calligraphy in two languages and other works of Chinese art. The Kyoto-made dining table was filled with the finest porcelain plates and the best English silver.   

Even the library was a sight to behold. Majority of the books were in Japanese, but a shelf was full of Chinese works.  Another shelf was filled half-full with books in English and half-full with books in French.  

"This is one of my current favorites," Enishi told Misao, as he pulled out a small book and handed it to her. 

She could not make anything out of the unusual scribble, written left to right.  

"_Vingt mille lieues sous les mers,_" he read out—en Français, then translated into Nihonggo. "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. It's about exploring the world underwater." 

"You mean, you could actually READ the book—in French?!" Misao asked in wonder. 

"Not as fluently as I could read English," he answered without a tinge of apology or timidity. It was a simple statement of fact. "I picked up my Chinese in Shanghai, then I managed to learn business English there as well. I'm still having some trouble with French, with all its nasal tones and such."   

This was simply further proof of the masterful, intelligent brain working under the cover of snowy hair. The man could speak at least three languages, and could read at least four. She would not be surprised if he suddenly talked to her in Spanish or Korean as well.  

In exchange for these glimpses into the sophisticated life of the rich and powerful, Misao showed Enishi the simple joys of living. The wonder in a sunrise, and the beauty in a sunset.  The serenity of a brook, and the majesty of a waterfall.  They were things that the young man now made time to appreciate, thanks to this spritely young woman who led the way.  

Both of them looked forward to the afternoons. Mornings kept them apart with its business dealings and house chores. But the afternoons they had free to spend either in a stroll through the woods, or a journey through the library's diverse collection.  

More days passed. 

A month went by.  

Two months.   

Misao arrived at his house one afternoon, with the promise of him reading his French story about a submersible going underwater again. His translations made the tale come alive to her, and made the fiction seem more real than life itself. 

The front door was open, so she let herself in.   

The first floor and dining hall were deserted.  As were all the rooms and the library. 

With a little more strolling through the wide house, she found the top of her friend's snow-white head, in the chair at the terrace, overlooking the beautiful forest beyond.   

She planned to creep in behind him, cover his eyes and childishly make him guess who she was. Thus she tiptoed nearer to the chair and moved in closer, until she was beside the chair's backrest.  

Then she stopped. She heard his tenor voice quietly groaning.  

"Nee-san……." 

She swiped a hand in front of the purple spectacles, but did not get a reaction.  

"Nee-san……..don't leave me here alone, nee-san……….."  Tears quietly streamed down behind the spectacles.  

Misao mustered enough courage to look at him squarely. With eyes closed and face flushed, he was lost in a nightmare she only half understood.   

"Why did you have to die, nee-san, why?!" Both hands were clenched in tight fists, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.  "It was HIM! It was HIS fault!"    

This was not good.  Misao had heard from Kaoru how this man had almost strangled her, half asleep and half awake, asking for his older sister, seeking the life of his sister's husband.  

"Why did you do it for him? Didn't you think of me then?" 

If she chose to act, and he reacted on impulse, her face and her frame could not protect her. She did not look anything like Tomoe, if Kaoru's distant similarity to her was anything to go by. She certainly was smaller than her, from Himura's descriptions. If he chose to kill her, it was in his means and his capability to do so, without remorse.  

"NEE-SAN!" 

But he looked so troubled, and alone, just then. The lost little boy he was, underneath the dark and menacing exterior. Surely she could do something for this-----distraught-----friend------of hers………. 

Then she recalled a fond childhood memory. It was when she had scraped her knee when she fell from a tree, back when she was eight years old. She cried and cried, and could not be consoled. That was when a teenage Okon came to her side, wrapped an arm around her, and sang a little lullaby, until she had fallen asleep in her lap.   

"Please don't leave me, nee-san!"  

She slowly slipped her lithe arms around his broad shoulders, and held him gently. She quietly rocked him, to quiet his shaking upper body. She then leaned her head over his. It was the first time she had ever dared hold him so close, and she had mixed emotions. But the greatest thought of her caring heart was to calm the troubled heart she held.  

Always, as always I do  
I have  
My eye on you  
Please sleep free from anxiety  
  
People have been inured to  
Wounding and injuring in this world  
There, we were  
Born and bred

The murmurs and the tears began to lessen, and soon they ceased. She wiped the sweat off the troubled brows, ran her fingers through the milk-white hair, and repeated her song.   

Itsumo, itsumo
    
    Boku ga, kimi o
    
    Mite te, ageru kara
    
    Anshin shite, oyasumi
    
    Kizu tsuke au koto ni
    
    Narete shimatta, kono sekai
    
    Soko de bokurawa, umare
    
    Sodatta

"You smile again for me, nee-san………." And he drifted off into quiet slumber.  

Whether he recognized her or not, it was fine. "Rest now. I am here. I promise to stay."   

She quietly let go, slowly released her hold, and waited for him back in the library.  

She never knew how long she waited. She did not even notice that she had fallen asleep, curled up in a soft armchair.  

She was awakened by a simple kiss to her cheek.  Short and sweet. She rubbed the sleep off her eyes, and looked up at a white tower.  

"E-ni-shi-san?" she asked sleepily.    

"I heard someone singing my sister's song……from somewhere far away……….." 

Misao drowsily scratched her head at his words. 

"The voice came closer, and closer…………it held me in its arms, rocked me softly, held my head………the way my sister used to hold me………." 

He lowered himself to the floor, until he was almost kneeling before her. 

"Then she sang, softly, peacefully, beautifully. Exactly the way my sister used to sing……….."  

He now knelt at her feet and took her right hand. He lowered his face, raised her hand, and gave the back of it a slow kiss. She blushed to the ends of her ears.  

"Arigatou, Misao."  

"F-f-for what, Enishi-san?" 

"For being there for me."           

He aligned his lips with hers.     

…………………………..

The song is "Komuriuta" (Lullaby), the haunting end song to Now and Then Here and There/Ima Soku ni Iru Boku.  It was sung by Reiko Yasuhara.  Nihon lyrics from www.animelyrics.com , and English lyrics from www.dear-prudence.net/imaboku .  Now and Then is an awesome 13-ep anime, with memorable characters and a wonderful, if very sad, story.  Highly recommended, if you can stomach child soldiers, killings, and war problems.   

Jules Verne published his work around or a little before the RK timeframe, so back then it would be a bestseller, not a classic.  ^^  Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea was published in 1870, with the English version published 1873. I got this info out of the back of my copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth. 

I agree with Midori, that Eni-chan could possibly know more languages than Japanese and Chinese. I mean, how in the world would he get an Armstrong Cannon and the Rengoku without some command of English?

Writing for Eni-chan is harder than writing for Kenshin, because Kenshin doesn't change in personality, whereas Enishi should change a little without sounding OOC. And it is Kenshin that I know inside-out, the way Firuze knows Enishi inside-out.   

Yen and amy—thanks!

Cleao—no Aoshi? We'll see.

Sabbie—Thanks for liking Shinichi-kun so much. I'd like Ran out of the way, too! Thanks for joining the movement!

Firuze-nee-san—I really CAN'T believe how you analyze Eni-chan! Thanks for all the help in this fic, too! 

Crystal—So far it will be E/M.  ^^  Aoshi is OK, but he's a brick……and I'm drowning slowly…….off the coast and I'm headed nowhere.  ^^   Kenshin is just clueless, but Aoshi is solid ice!  

Nekonomiko—Thanks for the info.  It depends on the pairing if it's cute and plausible.  ^^  E/K pairs have a tendency NOT to be cute.  Kenshin always looms at back for some reason.     

BittersweetKandy—Thanks for liking the style, but I'm also working on improving descriptions. ^^  

Chavi-kun—I like living in my country; I don't have to buy a lot of stuff to enjoy anime, because it's on national TV! Thanks, and keep reading!  

That's everybody who reviewed chap 3, thanks much! See you all again! 


	5. a new woman

Is it just me, or is Enishi appearing in too many FF.net RK fics recently? A lot of people want to have a go at him! Weird thing about it: you would see five versions of Eni-chan in five stories. The anime versions of the -gumi all help us to be somewhat consistent in our renderings of them, but we all don't have that privilege for Enishi. The short appearance in SeisouHen just doesn't suffice.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't do mushy stuff very well, but I try my best. ^^ I am sorry if it doesn't look like much of a story, the way "White Tiger Jade Concubine" has a story, but I hope you keep reading. There will be more exciting things happening eventually.  
  
.............  
  
He did not know what came over him. It just happened. His and her lips met, and he made the moment last.  
  
He enjoyed her warmth, her scent, her hair, her face, her lips-her whole being. It was remarkable, how he felt about her.  
  
He had never felt this way about other women, and he had had the opportunity in Shanghai to encounter other women. It came with the territory. But he always ignored them. They were there because he was connected with the Shanghai mafia, or because he was rich and powerful. A few women were brought to him-to get him killed, or to get his secrets. None of these women lasted a day with him.  
  
To Enishi, only one woman existed, and she was dead. He had no eyes for others.  
  
Until now.  
  
This girl-no, this woman-was different. She had seen him at his worst, and still she chose to give him a chance, to be his friend. She did not care about his riches, or his power. She cared about him. It blew him away.  
  
What he felt for her was not what he felt for his sister. It was not what he felt for Kamiya, or for the other women for that matter. It was more than friendship, more than affection. Something else.  
  
As his lips touched hers, it was as if that something else found expression, in a way words could not describe. If only she would understand what he wanted to show.  
  
But she slowly pushed him away, her eyes displaying her surprise, her pleasure, but also her fear.  
  
"Not so soon, Enishi-san," she pleaded. "Two months....is too short.....for you to know me....that way...."  
  
"No, it is not too short, Misao," he responded with desperation. "Two months I have seen you, known you, listened to you, learned from you. I know everything I need to know about you, and this afternoon gave me a final lasting impression. I am not making a mistake. I know what I feel. It is a new sensation for me, and I cannot give it words. But I am sure that you are the reason for it."  
  
She turned her eyes from him. "This is your first time to know a woman this way....how would you know it is love that you feel?"  
  
He answered with a raised voice, "How would YOU know it is.....love....that you feel, for Shinomori, eh----Makimachi?!"  
  
She was struck dumb.  
  
"It is the first time for both of us. I-I-did not plan it to end this way. It simply, simply, happened. Everything I knew combined into this one event, and before I knew what I was doing, I found myself this close to you...holding you." He pulled at his hair. "The feeling was eating me up inside, and it constantly demanded satisfaction, demanded assurance. I don't know what it is! Tell me, please, Misao, what it is!"  
  
"I don't know, Enishi-san."  
  
He slumped to the floor beside her, and held his head in his hands. She quietly rose from the chair and wrapped him in a warm embrace.  
  
"I don't know what to think, either. The last two months were special to me, too. You're someone extraordinary. I've learned a lot from you that I'd never know myself. And I know what you mean. I've had those weird feelings inside that you say you have.....but I don't know what to make of them. I don't know anymore. Who are you, really, to me....?"  
  
"Can you learn then to accept those sensations, and understand what they are, with me?" he asked plaintively.  
  
"I don't know. Aoshi-sama--------"  
  
"Shinomori again." He hung his head. "Why do you, as you say, love him? How do you know that he loves you back?" He took her hands again into his, and locked his piercing eyes on hers. His whole face demanded a reply.  
  
A few tears fell from her face. "Don't ask me questions that have no answers, Enishi-san."  
  
"They have answers, Misao," he returned with sharpness, and with sadness. "You merely refuse to admit them."  
  
Then it was as if he had put on an invisible mask. He released Misao, stood up, cocked his glasses, and straightened his form. "Thank you for coming this afternoon. Now please leave, before any more words pass between us that we might both regret. Go, Makimachi, before I change my mind."  
  
"But, Enishi-san..."  
  
"GO!!----please..."  
  
The young woman left.  
  
Days passed.  
  
Shiroyuki Shinichi tried to bury himself in work. There were a few expansions he wanted to make to the business, and he decided that this time was as good as any. Thus, he surrounded himself with papers, documents, and plans. He allowed associates and workers to meet him as necessary during the day. Anything to avoid thinking about last week.  
  
"Sir, there's a young lady asking to meet with you," his secretary piped in one afternoon.  
  
"Tell her I'm busy," he answered without looking up from the documents he was reading.  
  
Afternoons were horrible for the young businessman. The office was stuffy, a few workers tried his patience, and some papers did not make sense. When he tried to nap away his annoyance, his mind merely returned to that singing voice, that embrace, that kiss-that withdrawal.  
  
"Sir, the young lady is back," the secretary poked his head in.  
  
"Get her out," he ordered, with a vehemence that surprised even himself.  
  
He did not particularly appreciate liquor, although he drank a little at parties. But in desperation to eliminate the indescribable sensation in his heart, he took several glasses of wine at night. It lasted for only three days. The alcohol only heightened the sensation. He threw the bottle out through the terrace on the fourth night.  
  
"Confound that weasel.....confound her......," he murmured, as he hugged his knees on the terrace.  
  
He did not report for work the next day.  
  
The end of the second week came.  
  
That Friday was especially exasperating. Several deadlines had to be met. A few key negotiations had to be settled. The last of the plans for the expansion had to be completed. Everyone was unusually busy. More so, the manager for operations.  
  
"Sir...,"  
  
"What is it now? You've been bothering me all day!" Shiroyuki shot back, highly irritated.  
  
"Um, sir....the young lady..."  
  
"How many times have I told you to get her out?! At least once every single day! Do you want to keep your job?"  
  
The secretary mustered enough nerve to enter his office. "Sir, I'm sorry, but I have a message from her..."  
  
He slammed his hand on the desk. "That pesky weasel....tell her to stop bothering me and go home!"  
  
"Sir, begging your indulgence, the message is: 'Tell Shiroyuki-san that I am not leaving here until I see Enishi.' "  
  
He dropped his fountain pen.  
  
"And the young lady has been standing patiently at the front door of the factory, waiting to hear from this Enishi."  
  
He merely stared in disbelief, comprehending the young lady's pluckiness. He held his forehead in his hand, and waved his other hand at the secretary. "Escort her to my office."  
  
He was obeyed.  
  
He had a few minutes to think before she arrived. What should he do? Should he be angry at her, for something she did not do? Should he take her into a wide embrace and a passionate kiss, and leave her bewildered? Should he stay neutral, as if nothing happened, and act like he was no longer her friend?  
  
He took time to look at himself in the mirror. He had grown haggard in two weeks, from lack of sleep and overwork. His hair was more in a tumble than usual. His shirt was open at two buttons, exposing a sweaty undershirt beneath. What kind of an appearance was this to show to a woman? He hastily remedied the situation, buttoning and combing and washing. Hopefully this was better.  
  
Just in time. She appeared before him at the door.  
  
She had not changed. Rather, she seemed more beautiful than when he last saw her two weeks ago. It was as if he had seen her for the first time. Maybe, because it was the first time he took time to look at her, all of her.  
  
She was small for her age, and her clothes emphasized the fact. Yet her body was that of a warrior, well tuned and refined. There was speed, agility, and grace in those limbs. Her face, it was the face of someone who surpassed many difficulties with a smile. Her eyes, they shone with a brilliance of bright emeralds. Her hair, a black rope behind her, it was as fine as twined silk.  
  
There was nothing about his sister in her. For once, he did not care. For the first time, he gazed upon another woman, without the vision of Tomoe looming behind her.  
  
For the first time, he SAW another woman.  
  
"Misao...." He whispered in quiet awe.  
  
"Shiroyuki-san?"  
  
The name brought him back to his senses. "Um, tell the secretary not to disturb me for the next hour, M-M-Makimachi. And lock the door behind you."  
  
She did as she was told, and soon they were alone in the room.  
  
Then came many minutes of silence, which neither dared to break. Both remained standing in the middle of the room. He continued to gape at this unique vision, and for some reason, she did the same. A wordless conversation began between their eyes. Each sought the purposes of the other. The man only saw sadness and confusion.  
  
"Shiroyuki-san...," she called again uneasily, and broke the silence.  
  
"Enishi....Yukishiro Enishi..." he mumbled.  
  
"I've missed you, Enishi-san."  
  
He turned his back on her. "Ah, no mention of Shinomori today? No Aoshi-sama?"  
  
She remained silent.  
  
"I thought so. Your time is wasted, Makimachi. Unlock the door and find your way out."  
  
"I'm not leaving," she resolutely declared.  
  
She wrapped her lithe arms around his waist from behind, and leaned her head on his back. "You don't understand, Enishi-san. I owe my life and my being to Aoshi-sama. Oftentimes I wish he would see me now as a woman, and that I could give him something more now, in return for everything he has done for me. It's all that I know, and it's all I want to be."  
  
Each word stabbed like a knife through the businessman's heart.  
  
"But you changed all that, Enishi-san," she continued. "You have done me no favors, and I have been less than kind to you. Still you see me as someone to depend on and trust. Now there's someone else I want to live life for, someone else I would be sorry to lose one day. And I don't know anymore what I feel...for Aoshi-sama....for you...more for you....."  
  
"Forget Shinomori. You have no future with him," he said with severity.  
  
"I can't do that."  
  
"Stay with me, please, Misao," he faced the young woman and entreated.  
  
"I'm not sure I can do that now. Give me time."  
  
He sighed in defeat.  
  
"Just do this one thing for me, then, and everything will be alright again."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Do not resist."  
  
He scooped her up, drew her close, closed his eyes-and completed what he started. She fulfilled her end of the bargain. The whole world was lost to this unusual couple.  
  
It was the same memorable sensation, realized before him. It was a vague concept, one that had no word. But as he felt her hands through his hair and his shoulders, and touched the cheek next to his, he knew it was there. That something else.  
  
Was this love? Was this what people meant when they spoke of love? Was this what people felt?  
  
Whatever it was, it consumed him, it ran through his being, it filled his soul.  
  
And he decided.  
  
I---love---her.  
  
No one will take her from me.  
  
.............  
  
AACK!! You have NO idea how hard it is not to make Enishi a psychopath, obsessive lover, possessive boyfriend! It's like a natural progression of things, that it's annoying! I can't use the "this chap typed itself" direction, because it would decidedly go that way, and I don't want it to go that way. I know the personality I'm driving at, but I'm not sure what it's called. ^^  
  
Again, "Shiroyuki Shinichi" is just a made-up alter-ego, made by yours truly.  
  
Tiian, Sabbie (sorry about that test), Cleao, amy, bittersweetKandy, animepixie, nekonomiko-thanks much!  
  
Ayce Shade-YES! I need a mind behind Eni-chan!!  
  
Chitchat-I checked at www.sitepros.net/kenshin, and you're right, Enishi is YOUNGER than Aoshi. By two years. Sorry!  
  
Firuze-nee-san-Thanks very much for the insights into Aoshi as well. Seriously, you could write that in your Eni site!! Thanks for the assurance. I was afraid he was getting OOC. ^^  
  
Hope you come back! 


	6. a sudden obstacle

Hi, I'm back. This is just me going insane, before I have to read up and do assignments for midterms. Man, do I have a busy week ahead of me.....  
  
Disclaimer: My favorite chara is Kenshin, not his brother-in-law, but I am definitely intrigued by Enishi. Watsuki-sensei is an AWESOME writer, and this is my poor attempt at continuing his enigmatic manga character.  
  
Dialogue-intensive chapter coming your way.  
  
...............  
  
"Where have you been, Misao?"  
  
Okina welcomed her home with the question.  
  
"Just out, like always," she replied easily, but her eyes went past him.  
  
"With that young man again?"  
  
"Shiroyuki-san? Uh-huh," and she stretched herself out on the porch.  
  
"You don't fool me, Misao-chan," Okina sternly glared at her.  
  
Puzzled, she took a more respectful position, kneeling opposite him. The old man, however, began to pace before her.  
  
"Let me tell you what I already know," he began. "Shiroyuki Shinichi is not that man's real name. His name is Yukishiro Enishi."  
  
Misao paled.  
  
"He does not bother too much to hide his former identity, as he assumes that he is no longer being watched. Quite the contrary. The police keep a private tab on him, and so do several private investigators. At the first chance they get, at the first sign of criminal activity, they will pounce and arrest him."  
  
Her face became ashen.  
  
"Don't look at me like that, Misao. I taught you everything you know, and you can't hide anything from me for long. To continue: He was a former mafia boss in Shanghai, influential there and in Japan. This current business of his stems from his experience in weapons manufacturing and trading."  
  
This did not worry her too much; she knew it from him personally.  
  
"He used to have, probably still has, a huge network of contacts and informants. He was powerful in the underground. It is possible that many key people were killed under his orders."  
  
Speculation, Misao mused. Not proven.  
  
"And, his mental capacity is still questioned. He could go berserk at any moment, and kill off hundreds of people with a single command. Or, he could kill with his own hands at will and without mercy. He is skillful in both the sword and the pistol, which is a deadly combination."  
  
Still speculation......but what if Okina was right?  
  
"W-w-who gave you this information?" Misao inquired.  
  
"That man is potentially dangerous, Misao. It would be wise for you to keep away from him." Okina warned.  
  
"Who gave you the information?!"  
  
"I protect the privacy of my sources." His face was calm.  
  
"WHO TOLD YOU?!" It took all of Misao's respect for him, not to grab Okina by the throat.  
  
"If you must know," Okina quietly sat in front of her, "Aoshi told me."  
  
The world crumbled before her eyes.  
  
"He knows that you have been spending your afternoons with him. From someone inside the Shiroyuki mansion, it has been discovered that you had once been kissed by the man. Now, has all the information been so far correct?"  
  
She did not answer.  
  
"Furthermore, you have been careless enough to tell Yukishiro too much about yourself....."  
  
"But I never gave away any of our secrets!" she protested.  
  
"You have shown him our house, described it in detail. Anyone with a scheming mind could use this information to eliminate us! Also, you have shown him your strong and weak points, and those of your comrades, by telling about them to him. You have even gone so far as to tell him about the Okashira...."  
  
"Only that I think the world of Aoshi-sama, and nothing about his movements!"  
  
"But you know yourself that he is uniquely brilliant and intelligent. Do you think he won't put two and two together, and find a way to infiltrate us?"  
  
"Infiltrate? You're taking this too far, Jiya! He doesn't have any plans like that!"  
  
"Are you sure? How would you know that he isn't lying to you, showing you a false face, like he has a false name? You know only one side of him!"  
  
Now that Okina mentioned it, Misao realized he was right. She saw the man who showed her the world of books, the man who was confused about life and love, the man who-kissed her an hour ago. But the shrewd businessman, the powerful dealer, the conniving master tactician-that was a part of his personality as well, and she had never seen him in that light.  
  
What if it was true what Okina said, that he was merely showing a false face, that he had not changed after all, that this was all a show for her? That deep inside, he was still a...psychotic genius? Driven by a singular purpose, someone who could set Kyoto ablaze, could toy with a man's emotions, could employ vast resources to eradicate traces of a man's life?  
  
But the man she held two weeks ago was not a farce. The man who held her close this afternoon was not a lie. Surely he was true to her, if only to her.....surely.  
  
"Misao, for your safety, I have to ask you to stop seeing Yukishiro," Okina ordered.  
  
"But, Jiya----"  
  
"No buts, Misao!"  
  
"Jiya, he needs me!"  
  
"Those were the Okashira's orders!"  
  
The Okashira's orders?!  
  
"I understand that you and Aoshi have had an opportunity to meet Yukishiro in Tokyo when you stayed at the Himuras for a few months. The man you met there is the same as the one who calls himself Shiroyuki Shinichi now, according to Aoshi. He says that Yukishiro already has an outward presentation of a changed life. However, he still retains much of that self from your encounter with him two years ago. Aoshi has not stopped you from seeing him these past few months, because he was not sure of what course to take. But, as new information came to his attention, he has decided to make you end your relationship with Yukishiro."  
  
"New---information?"  
  
"Yukishiro has upscaled his business to take in exports to Shanghai. That probably means that he still has connections he wants to employ for his illegal tradings. There have been reports of an increase in opium and weapons trade recently, and your-friend-is suspect to be one of the masterminds of the exchanges."  
  
"That's not possible...maybe it's just a coincidence....."  
  
"Aoshi has reason to believe that he has reclaimed that little island of his, a trading outpost from two years ago. Reports from Tokyo say that no increase in activity to it has been noted, but they suspect it might happen soon."  
  
"No, that's not true, Jiya..."  
  
"Until we are sure that it is not true, we forbid you to continue seeing him. You are too important to us."  
  
"NO, JIYA!!"  
  
"My mind is made up, and so is Aoshi's."  
  
There was no reasoning with Okina. As tears welled up in her eyes, she ran up to the second floor, and cried out her sorrows. She propped her arms on a windowsill, and quietly watched the day turn into the night, the way her hopes turned into disappointment.  
  
It had been a very unusual day. She started it full of hope and determination to see her tall whitehaired friend, after two weeks of separation. She saw her hope realized. She felt-whatever it was he felt for her now. Then now she was being forced to separate herself from him again. The worst of it being, her own Aoshi-sama gave the order.  
  
Aoshi-sama was Aoshi-sama, and she would obey him almost without question. But why was this decision so hard for her to accept? Why was it so hard to leave him now? What was Enishi to her, and what place did Aoshi now have in her heart?  
  
She buried her head in her arms, and wept under the stars.  
  
"Doushite?" (why?)  
  
A voice asked from the street below.  
  
"Why the tears in her beautiful jade eyes?"  
  
Misao looked down, and saw the reason for her tears.  
  
He had changed his clothes into something a little more formal, slightly hidden under a dark overcoat. Misao knew that Americans called it a three- piece suit, and it was of the black and white combination that he wore, cloaking him in the night. His head was uncovered, and his snowy hair blew in the chilly winter breeze.  
  
She recalled all the information Okina force-fed on her, and she tried to link them to the handsome gentleman looking at her from below. She remembered a time, not too long ago, when anything he said was taken with suspicion, by her. She might no longer think that way, but she definitely could not blame Aoshi-sama for doing so. He never had a chance to talk to him like she had talked to him over the past few months.  
  
But the Okashira must be obeyed. It was part of the code.  
  
"My associate is having a dinner at my house, and he has graciously allowed me to bring a partner. Could you possibly be ready in half an hour?" the gentleman asked from the street.  
  
"No, I'm sorry......Shiroyuki-san. I can't be ready, not ever." And her eyes filled with tears again.  
  
" 'Shiroyuki-san?' What is the meaning of this? You already called me------- -"  
  
"Don't say it here, Shiroyuki-san. I can't see you anymore. Aoshi-sama forbids it."  
  
"What?! Why?"  
  
"Because he still thinks, Shiroyuki-san, that Yukishiro is a dangerous man, and it would be wise for me to stay away from him....so this is goodbye."  
  
"Sacre bleu.....Shinomori thinks I am dangerous?! Still?"  
  
He began to chuckle, then to snicker, then to laugh, then to guffaw until the whole street heard his laughter.  
  
He eventually composed himself and added with a hiss, "He doesn't know half of what I can do."  
  
Then he silently looked up at his little friend at the window. As snowflakes quietly fell around the man, a plan began to form in his mind, Misao could see it in his face. She did not know whether to be assured of that fact, or to be deathly afraid.  
  
Misao saw him take out his purple spectacles from a coat pocket. He dramatically took it in both hands, slowly brought it to his face. Then with right index and middle fingers slightly crossed, he pushed the glasses by the bridge, and hid his increasingly fierce eyes.  
  
"It shall be as he wishes. Shiroyuki will no longer meet with Makimachi from this day forward."  
  
She bravely hazarded, in a whisper. "When do I see you again....Enishi- san?"  
  
"Wait until the cherry blossom festival, Misao. All should be in readiness by then. I will come for you, I swear it."  
  
..............  
  
Things will start to get interesting from now on, hopefully.  
  
Sabbie-I finally have the first chapter to the Vandread fic you asked of me. ^^ I do need tips, though. Hope you do OK with the make-up admissions!  
  
Firuze-nee-san-I'm managing him smoothly and wonderfully?! Nee-san, do you have any IDEA how much I pound my head nights when I type, just to get it right? I could actually leave a Nine Months chap in the middle and go to bed. I'm afraid that if I sleep on a White and Black chap I might lose the moment slowly forming in my brain and not get it back. As it is, I keep feeling like I'm falling into the cliché! I'll keep the suggestions in mind, thanks!  
  
ewunia-yup, that's what I like about RK too, the deep characters. Oh, yes, there is a deep personality under all the insanity! And yes, that's why there are a lot of RK fanfics, there are so many open ends to the story.  
  
chitchat-Misao won't just fall straight for him, or for anyone else, to replace Aoshi! I mean, even Kenshin already had awful thoughts about Aoshi, and still she didn't lose faith in him! Not sure yet if this will be happy or angsty. It's definitely not comedy. ^^  
  
amy-Thanks a lot for the interest!!  
  
Cleao-don't bite your nails, that's a bad habit! ^^  
  
Tiian-thanks for the compliment and the vote of confidence. Feelings? I'll try to work on them, but I'm not too good with descriptions. ^^  
  
Devil-thanks much!  
  
Zauriel-to further understand Enishi, I suggest you go to www.maigo- chan.org/ruroken.html, and read the Jinchuu arc translations. Hope it helps!  
  
Tesuka-chan-thanks about the Misao comment! Does she love him? She's not sure yet. ^^ Possessive streak? You'll find out eventually...^^V  
  
Please keep reading! 


	7. an unwitting gentleman

Hello! Sorry for the delay. I really was busy, and the story needed a MAJOR overhaul. Thanks for all the questions by the way, they help to clarify the direction this story is taking.  
  
Muchos gracias, senora Firuze Khanume.  
  
I never believed the time would come that I'd say this; you have a DESCRIPTION-intensive chapter to read. ^^ Hope you enjoy.  
  
.............  
  
"Wait until the cherry blossom festival, Misao. All should be in readiness by then. I will come for you, I swear it."  
  
What exactly did Yukishiro Enishi mean by that? Misao did not have a clue.  
  
However, Shiroyuki Shinichi kept his word, and did not make efforts to see Misao the rest of the winter. Misao would rather have had it that he was not too faithful to the promise, however. She missed the handsome face and the grand demeanor of her friend. She missed the walks through the woods and the wonderful conversations. Conversations she would never, ever, have with Aoshi-sama.  
  
She HAD tried to reason with her Aoshi-sama, tried to make him understand that Enishi was a new person now, that dealings with the criminal world were over and done with. But the man would not be moved from his decision. Was he just concerned about her? Or was he jealous? Did he actually have anything even remotely close to love for her, that he could BE jealous?  
  
His face gave no answers.  
  
Alone in her room, she pulled at her braid in confusion. What was the point in loving a man who did not return the love she gave? Maybe the man was even irritated at all her displays of affection, but was too much of a gentleman to complain. Two years after all the events in Tokyo and Kyoto, and still Aoshi treated her like a little sister. Why then didn't he just say, plain and outright, 'Look, Misao, I am only a big brother to you, and I have no romantic feelings for you.'? That could have stopped her from pushing and tugging at him all the time.  
  
It was hard to keep up the guessing game for so long. Misao felt in his eyes and actions that she was more than a little sister to him, but for goodness sakes why can't he SAY it?! So at least she could tell Enishi, and all of this romantic weirdness from him would cease.  
  
Definitely, banning her from Enishi is NOT the way Aoshi could tell her he loves her. At least Enishi took pains to tell her he loved her, treated her extra nice, even kissed her. But did that mean SHE loved him in return? She liked his company, yes. She appreciated his friendship, yes. She enjoyed the time when her lips met his. But did she LOVE him?  
  
Um...maybe....sorta kinda....guess so.....50/50?......could I call a friend?.....from next door, to explain this crazy situation better?!  
  
The days passed, and winter turned to spring.  
  
As was the tradition, kimonos came out from storage for the sakura festival. After most of a morning's wrapping and tugging, Misao was bedecked in a beautiful pink ensemble, tied around the waist with a purple silk obi, finished off with high wooden sandals. Her hair was removed from the regular braids, brought up to a tasteful bun close to her head, then decorated with flowers. A little powder covered her face, some dabs of rouge colored her cheeks, and a touch of red filled her lips.  
  
Anyone who saw her everyday would have second thoughts if this really was Makimachi Misao. Even Aoshi stared in wonder at the little beauty before him. This was a completely different, completely new, young woman. As the Aoiya's residents filed out to the street, almost everyone stopped and stared at the transformation in the boyish ninja.  
  
Imagine the impression on a certain young man, as he intently watched the young lady from a safe distance. He chuckled as she grumbled at her high sandals and faltered through her restricting kimono. He smiled as other young men sought her attention, men who normally would ignore her. He smirked, as the man she desperately wanted to please, summarily kept his eyes away. He gazed as she looked in his direction, and displayed her full splendor.  
  
He found himself faltering, he who never faltered. He found his heart pounding, he who was sure he had no heart. He found his breaths rapid, he who had utmost calm when he chose. He found his hands shaking, he whose hands were steady and sure.  
  
Finally he saw her stand alone in a crowd. Her comrades had gone ahead to see a street performance. She had taken time to stop at a stall.  
  
His brain and his whole nervous system were in tune and at their highest sensitivity, knowing each thought, feeling each goosebump, hearing each heartbeat, experiencing each emotion.  
  
He slowly walked to where she stood, and quietly tapped her shoulder.  
  
She turned around.  
  
At first she had trouble knowing who the young man was. He looked like every other young man who had noticed her. He wore the traditional hakama and gi, both dark blue. Under the gi he wore a white collared shirt. His feet were covered in the traditional socks and sandals. His eyes had the same dreamy look that the other men had. Then she noticed the tousled locks, half hidden under a cloth cap. White as the snow still on the mountains.  
  
She, too, was amazed at the transformation. It was the first time she had ever seen him without foreign-style pants, and still he was the epitome of style. Everything was just...RIGHT, just perfect. Of the young men who had taken notice of her, this young man was the best-dressed of them all. She let her eyes wander from the tip of his geta to the top of his cap, just to be sure that he was truly standing before her. It was him, it was him, all of him.  
  
Her own heart was pounding. Her knees were shaking inside the kimono. The rouge masked the blush that rose to her cheeks. Her tongue was lost and useless before the young man.  
  
Without a word, he took her hand, gave it a warm kiss, looked up at her eyes, and smiled. She in turn bowed respectfully and beamed at him.  
  
He held out a hand to her, in an unspoken plea for her to follow. She nodded, and accepted the offered hand.  
  
He whisked her away silently, through happy streets filled with colorful stalls, through narrow streets filled with trash, through broad streets filled with people. They walked at an even pace, but she felt like they breezed through, or rode a cloud. He felt like he was walking on air with her, even as he pushed and shoved through the crowd. They saw nothing and heard nothing, but the presence of each other, and the tight bond their hands held together.  
  
Soon she found herself walking through the door of his mansion, still holding his firm hand. He escorted her up the stairs to the wide terrace.  
  
In the middle of the terrace, a medium-sized table had been prepared, covered with succulent dishes. The best tofu in Kyoto. Grilled sea bream. Fine Chinese green tea. Excellent cuts of tuna and mackerel. Several servings of other seafood. Beside the table on two sides were mats covered in silk, for two people to sit on. Near the table a small light was provided, not bright enough to obscure the night but sufficient to illuminate the beautiful dinner.  
  
He led her to sit on one of the mats, then seated himself opposite her on the other. The light brought out the glow in both their faces, slightly embarrassed at being together, but enjoying every second.  
  
"Bon appetit," he greeted, with a wave of the hand to the spread.  
  
"Nani?"  
  
"It's just a French expression, it basically means to have a good appetite, to eat well. Itadakimasu!" he smiled.  
  
The food tasted as good as it looked. She could only imagine the expense her friend had to incur, to prepare this grand meal.  
  
Underneath the beautiful kimono and the fancy makeup, he learned that she had not changed. She was still his bubbly and cheerful friend, and she talked and talked about her past few weeks. She pouted as she mentioned the okashira. She lit up as she recalled the times she saw him in the market.  
  
"And did you know that I bought a Japanese translation of that book of yours?" she reported. "Cost me a pretty penny, too! I got to reading it, and tried to remember those days we sat by the sofa and you read aloud. I understood better some of the things you were trying to tell me, but seriously, you do a better translation!"  
  
Absolutely nothing could get this young woman down for long, he noted. She made the best of a bad situation, and faced her trials with a smile.  
  
"But what have you been doing all this time, Enishi-san? Always being a good boy and avoiding me...."  
  
"Plans, making plans," he answered simply.  
  
He waited until they were both finished eating, then stood up and held out his hand again. "Come. I'll show you what I've been doing these last few weeks."  
  
He led her to the bedroom.  
  
A million sane and insane thoughts ran through Misao's shaken brain as she shuffled beside him.  
  
Whatever exactly those thoughts were, they all vanished when she saw the bed itself. Above it were two trunks, of the same size and make, obviously newly bought. Enishi walked to the dresser and retrieved a set of keys. As she stood at the foot of the large bed, he approached one of the trunks, took out a key, and turned the lock. He gestured for her to come closer.  
  
The trunk was full of clothes, a woman's clothes. Of American and European make. He took out the dress on top, an exquisite traveling frock, ivy green with a slight touch of plaid running through the fabric. As he spread it out, she knew that it was specifically made for her. She stood aghast. This was only one dress. There were at least ten more inside the trunk.  
  
He took something from the nearby bedstead. He then showed it to her, fanned out in his hand. Two large pieces of cardboard.  
  
"Tickets to board a steamship, leaving Tokyo Bay next week. We are going to Paris."  
  
"P-P-Paris?! Paris, in France?!"  
  
The poor young lady could only stammer. France was in Europe, France was in the opposite side of the world, France was---dreadfully far away from Kyoto....  
  
"It's not like it's the first time I'm going there. I have contacts, I will have a place there for you....."  
  
"For m-m-me? What does this all mean, Enishi-san?!"  
  
He put down the dress and the tickets, and walked closer and closer to her. "I said I would come for you, and now I have. In the trunk there are clothes enough and to spare for the transpacific trip. We then take the fastest train across America, then ride a transatlantic ship from New York to Paris."  
  
She walked backward and backward, until her back knocked against the door. This was not the Enishi-san she was used to. This was close to the --- Enishi --- she held in contempt.  
  
The psychopath.  
  
"Waiting outside is a carriage, ready to take us to the train station, for the first trip to Tokyo tomorrow morning. Everything is in place. Everything has been thought of." He laid a hand on the door beside her sweat-filled face, and leveled his eyes with hers. "You'll come with me to Paris. I'll make you a lady of society, looked upon with respect. I'll show you what it is to live among the elite. I will make you mine."  
  
"And if I say no?"  
  
"You cannot POSSIBLY say no, Misao! The business could live on its own now, so I can leave it to respected employees, and they will run it the way I have, and still make money..Now please say you will come with me, Misao!" His words were desperate, and rapid.  
  
Despite the trepidation Misao felt at that moment, she also felt that something was dreadfully wrong with this operation. No way Shiroyuki Shinichi, no way Yukishiro Enishi was doing this, just because of an overpowering affection for a woman. There must be something else to this plan, Misao calculated. She would get to the bottom of it.  
  
"You are running away from the law," Misao directly and bravely accused, "and you are taking me with you so I won't squeal. All of this, is a large scam to get the Oniwabanshuu into your favor, so they won't help the police."  
  
"NO!"  
  
It was now Enishi who walked backward, as Misao, hands akimbo, took the aggressive stance. "I work undercover, and I can think like you in some respects. You know that the police are after you, and they have some evidence against you, so you decided to run while the going was good."  
  
"I know I'm still on the wanted list, but they have no reason to arrest me. I don't know what evidence those wretches have, but they are false! I have nothing to hide, I have nothing to answer for anymore!!"  
  
"You are not telling me the truth!"  
  
Suddenly his eyes glowered in anger, and he lifted the young woman by the neck. "Look, weasel, you do not want to make this harder for yourself. I would have wanted that you willingly come with me in that carriage to the train station. But as you are putting up a fight, I could just as easily drug you unconscious and take you there myself."  
  
"Just you dare," she gagged, "and I will personally have you arrested, for kidnapping!"  
  
The warning stunned him for a few important seconds, enough time for her to chop at his wrists and make him release her.  
  
She slapped him hard across the face.  
  
"A gentleman does not run away from his problems. A gentleman faces them with an honorable mind and a brave heart. A gentleman does not force a situation to run his way. A gentleman uses each situation that comes his way to his best advantage. And I thought Yukishiro Enishi was a gentleman!"  
  
A few tense moments of silence. A grandfather clock rang the stroke of midnight. The young woman, a few strands of hair astray, breathed heavily, in frustration and in confusion. The young man held an injured cheek and injured pride.  
  
"There is no other reason," he quietly spoke with bowed head. "If there is any other reason---it is to take you away from HIM. That is all. Maybe if you forgot about him, you would finally.....love me...." He fell into silence again.  
  
"I would have wanted to go, if you must know, Enishi-san," she slowly broke the stillness. "But it would bother my conscience terribly if I left, running from problems and without the blessing of my friends. Someday, when you and I are both ready, when everything is just right, I'd welcome a chance to see the world outside Japan."  
  
She took his hand and tugged at his arm. "For now, a trip to the library would be fine. I've missed that book of yours!"  
  
"You are beyond knowing, weasel," he shook his head with a defeated smile.  
  
"Makimachi Misao desu yo!"  
  
"Hai, hai."  
  
Snuggled in the sofa, Enishi began to absentmindedly read Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, in French, without bothering to translate. Because of the fiery yet beautiful woman beside him, all his plans and dreams of a new life in a new land with a new lady have completely shattered. Let him have at least the satisfaction of going to France in his words and in his imagination.  
  
He wanted to board a Nautilus of his own, fill it with books and memories of the world, and lose himself in it, under the oceans. Nobody would miss him, anyway, nobody. Not even this woman beside him. She would live her life, apart from him, and she would be happy. Not so with him. He would always be alone.  
  
Enishi heard the grandfather clock chime the second hour of the new day. Misao had dropped off the sleep, tired from all the excitement of the day. Her head leaned on his shoulder, and he heard her quiet breaths at his arm. There was no trace of fear or apprehension. It was the peaceful sleep of a little girl beside someone she trusted.  
  
He could not resist looking at that peaceful face. Soon his free hand released the book, and began to caress her smooth cheeks, and to feel the delicate curves. It came to the top of her head and down to the bun of her hair. Instinctively, almost impulsively, he gently removed the pins and flowers, one by one. He finally took out the comb, and her long tresses tumbled down, like a new waterfall.  
  
If she only said yes.....If she could only be his....If only she could be with him forever.  
  
He wanted to do more, much more. There was no one left in the house; all of the servants were in their quarters, far away from the library or the bedroom.  
  
His hand came up again to her face, and slowly went down to her chin, and lower to her neck. His hand felt the opening of the kimono. He desperately wanted the chance to look deeper and farther into her, to know her completely, to feel her through him.......  
  
Then her words stopped him again.  
  
I thought Yukishiro Enishi was a gentleman.  
  
NO, he was not a gentleman. He only had an insatiable appetite for her in his heart and soul. He had actually planned to take her away with him, irregardless of who might be affected by this action. He wanted her to be his, and his alone. He wanted to leave this friendless country and bring her, his only friend, with him to a new country, hopefully with new friends. No, he was not a gentleman.  
  
But she thought he was a gentleman. She believed him to be a gentleman.  
  
He rose up from the sofa, and rested her tired head on a pillow. He walked to the bedroom and retrieved a blanket. He returned to the library.  
  
He became aware of her full form, elegantly curved in her slumber. Her slender feet, her firm calves, her smooth thighs, her lithe arms. By the gods, he wanted to feel them close to his own. He only had to untie the obi, ever so slowly.....  
  
But she began to mumble in her sleep. "Shinichi is a gentleman, Aoshi- sama! Don't worry about me!"  
  
It was Shinichi who was the gentleman, not Enishi, he thought. Such blind faith in a man. He, who never trusted anyone, could not comprehend such blind faith.  
  
He draped the blanket on her. "Sleep well, my dear," he murmured, and kissed her on the forehead.  
  
Then he made his way to the terrace, and placed his hands on the railings. There he waited for the sun to rise over the mountain.  
  
At the first sign of light, a carriage rolled to a halt in front of the Aoiya. The okashira was waiting at the door.  
  
A man stepped out, carrying a large bundle wrapped in a blanket. Without a word of recognition or permission, he stepped into the house, carried the bundle up the stairs to the second floor, and laid the bundle over a prepared futon. He exited the building as wordlessly as he came.  
  
But first he stopped before the okashira. He took off his cap and made himself known.  
  
"I could have taken her from you last night.....Remember that. Sayonara."  
  
He mounted the carriage, and disappeared with the rising sun.  
  
  
  
..........  
  
Give me a little credit. This is the first time I've written a chapter with mostly descriptions. It was harder to write than even "separation" (the Battousai chapter) for Nine Months.  
  
Everyone, say "thank you" to Firuze Khanume. The story hopefully will be a much better read that what I first planned, thanks to a very timely review from her. It is very tough to go against the grind, and not make Enishi psychotic. Thanks to her intimate knowledge of our white-haired friend, my thinking got rewired in the right direction. Firuze-nee-san is right. An admiration for Yukishiro Enishi is an acquired taste, but once you have it, you can't seem to lose it!  
  
Almost everyone's questions have probably been answered by this chapter.  
  
Nia-Me and Midori write together?! Oh..dear me, I'm not worthy!! White and Black isn't even ¼ as well done as White Tiger Jade Concubine---but enough of that, Firuze-nee-san told me never to compare myself with Midori. If can even get a review out of her, I'd be a very very happy writer! But she does know that I'm writing this thing. ^^  
  
Itadakimasu---overall greeting before eating  
  
Nani-what?  
  
Geta-Japanese sandals 


	8. a suspicious operation

Hi again!  
  
I'm a volunteer at my high school, so I get to see a lot of spelling lists. There's one particular spelling list I like best. It has the following words: "raccoon" , "rooster" , and "wolf". Unfortunately there's not a tiger, weasel, or dragon in sight. ^_^x  
  
If you still don't know who Shinichi is-I don't know what to do with you. ^^ And, as you notice, I'm back with the dialogue. ^_^;;  
  
..........  
  
"It's just a dream, Misao!"  
  
"No, it wasn't a dream! I really was with E-I mean-Shinichi, last night!"  
  
"Maybe it's just too much sake in the brain, Misao-chan," Okina suggested, to clarify the confusion.  
  
"I've only had green tea all of last night-the best kind, too!" Misao protested, still wearing the kimono, loose hair scattered all over. "Come on, now, doesn't ANYONE believe me?!"  
  
"Maybe you just forgot about the sake," Omasu rationalized. "What we know is this: you trailed behind to buy some takoyaki. I think we saw someone call you, and you followed. We never saw you again all night. We figured you just partied with some neighbor of ours. Then this morning we find you here, fast asleep like nothing happened!"  
  
"But even I don't know why I'm back here," Misao complained. "I fell asleep in Shinichi's house, I swear! Surely you believe me, Aoshi-sama!" she implored.  
  
Aoshi averted his gaze from her, and calmly sipped his tea. "You were just drunk."  
  
"You, too, Aoshi-sama?!"  
  
No further reactions came from him.  
  
Days passed. Nothing more was said about the mysterious evening.  
  
Misao noticed, however, that her Aoshi-sama stayed home more often now. He meditated near the garden, no longer at the temple. He constantly placed himself where Misao could see him, or where he could see her. Whenever he had to leave the Aioya, he would take her with him, and keep her beside him.  
  
Not that there was an increase of affection out of him, though. Rather, he was colder than ever. It seemed like there was nothing she did right. If she brought him tea, he said it was cold. If she got him some well water, he complained that it was warm. If she practiced within his line of sight, eventually he saw something wrong with her technique.  
  
"This is about, Shinichi, right?" Misao dared to ask once.  
  
"Call him by his name," he ordered sternly.  
  
"I don't know what you know, Aoshi-sama," Misao glared back, "But the name he gave me was Shiroyuki Shinichi."  
  
Aoshi simply harrumphed.  
  
Shinichi had definitely noticed the increased...surveillance and protection. Purple spectacles always hid sad eyes now.  
  
Aoshi took her one day with him to the precinct. He said he would check up on a case in one of the offices, and he left her outside, seated in a chair in the hall. She sat quietly, and tried to read her Japanese translation of her friend's French book. Reading novels, however, was not a regular pastime with her, and she read very slowly.  
  
Aoshi stayed inside the office for quite a while, and Misao had read half a chapter already.  
  
Quite unexpectedly, she noticed an officer sit beside her. He probably was waiting for the men inside, so she ignored him after the usual greetings.  
  
"Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea?" the officer suddenly asked. "I've heard that it's a good book!"  
  
"Oh, yes it is," Misao decided that small talk would help pass the time faster. "But there are times when this translation isn't so good--- from the French, that is."  
  
"You've read this in French?"  
  
"Oh, no, I don't understand French, but I have a friend who does, and he translates it. Nice guy, rather a loner, but quite the gentleman. Definitely better-looking than Aoshi-sama in there!"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
From a pocket, the officer took out a beautiful haircomb. He took one of her hands and placed the comb inside it.  
  
"Whatever anyone else says, that night was not a dream." He whispered, a familiar tenor.  
  
Misao opened her hand, and recognized her comb from that night. She suddenly gaped at the officer's all too familiar face.  
  
He smirked confidently at her. "I do this every once in a while. These bluecoats don't notice me; I'm just another worthless rookie to them. This is how I know they have false evidence of some kind against a certain Yukishiro Enishi." He looked around for a split second, and continued. "I won't let them get him. I know the tricks from both sides of the law. Whoever is really behind this operation against him..will eventually be caught."  
  
"Do YOU know?" she asked carefully.  
  
"I have my suspicions, but I have no proof. Don't trouble yourself, my pretty weasel. I've been in tougher situations than this." He stood up to leave. "Take care of yourself."  
  
"B-b-but, E-ni---Shi--Shiroyuki-san..."  
  
He looked behind him from the top of the stairs. "Thank you for that evening. I'll be seeing you."  
  
He was gone.  
  
Just then, Aoshi opened the door of the office. "Who were you talking to just now?"  
  
"S-S-Some officer," she lied. "I think he was looking for one of the rooms on this floor."  
  
He was satisfied with the reply. He just saw the blue police cap from the top of the stairs. "Come." He ordered. "We have an operation for tonight."  
  
No other words were exchanged, despite the thousand questions Misao had ready to ask the okashira.  
  
Back at the Aioya, the okashira called for a general assembly at the dining hall. Everyone was present, from Okina, the highest member, to the newest recruit. This kind of assembly was rare now, with the coming of peace with the Meiji government. Obviously the police had a big fish to catch, and needed auxiliary assistance. Misao was intrigued.  
  
Aoshi gave the general and specific layouts of the plan. He called out particular people. He assigned them to strategic locations. He gave them important warnings and vital suggestions. He was completely in control. He was the perfect leader. Misao could not help but admire this indomitable man who led the Oniwabanshuu.  
  
Finally, he called Misao.  
  
"Everyone else has been assigned. You're the last one."  
  
She was happy beyond belief. Finally he was giving her some important responsibility in an important operation.  
  
"The whole operation depends on you, Misao. One false move would spell its failure."  
  
The young woman was up to the challenge. She nodded with determination and listened intently.  
  
"Everyone else has been assigned a watchpoint. They are supposed to alert the police to any exit points the criminals may have in trying to escape. The general plan is to catch the suspects and their accomplices red-handed. You are assigned to ground zero. Meaning, you will alert all of us if the exchange is beginning to take place."  
  
"An exchange of what?"  
  
"A weapons exchange. Completed illegal weapons from overseas are about to be transported to Kyoto tonight, and it will soon be taken to other key cities in Japan, unless we stop it here. In exchange for the weapons, steel and iron parts needed to make more weapons will also be transported tonight."  
  
"You know this because...," she was all business.  
  
"Someone from the mansion gave the police an important tip," he answered matter-of-factly.  
  
"Mansion? W-W-what mansion? W-W-Where are you assigning me?" she lost composure and looked at Aoshi with apprehension.  
  
"I am assigning you to the metalworks factory. Any developments there tonight, you will warn us about. You will tell us if and when Yukishiro Enishi makes his move."  
  
Misao whispered menancingly to him, "I've told you a million times, Enishi is not involved in crime anymore!"  
  
"Why do you insist on defending him?" His face had not changed.  
  
"Because he is my friend, Aoshi-sama!"  
  
He answered with a voice full of ice, "But I thought you were friends with a Shiroyuki Shinichi."  
  
Misao clenched her fists and gritted her teeth.  
  
"You cannot let your emotions overtake your duty, Misao," Okina reminded her. "You will follow the instructions as given."  
  
"I won't do it," she proudly defied them both.  
  
"Then you are disobeying a direct order by the okashira. You will be sanctioned by the Oniwabanshuu," Okina warned sternly. "You will no longer be associated with it. You will no longer have this place to go home to."  
  
Misao was astounded at the gravity of the situation. If she chose to side with her new friend, she would have to relinquish her old ones. If, however, she chose to side with her comrades, she would have to turn her new friend over to the police-probably under a false charge.  
  
Was she ready to give up everything she had known, loved, and grew up with, for a man she barely knew, for someone she only really met five months ago? Was she tough enough to forget the memorable days she had with this unfathomable young man? Was she willing to give up on her old life for a new one? Was she willing to destroy the new life she found in favor of the old one?  
  
White...or.....black?  
  
"Give me another assignment, please! Anything but that!" she pleaded.  
  
"There is no other way," Aoshi stubbornly declared. "You are the only one acquainted enough with the factory, and the only one who knows the target well enough to act as a direct lookout."  
  
Misao sighed. There was no way out of this predicament. She had to chose. Only one.  
  
But, she thought upon it again...there might be a way to obey Aoshi but not turn tail on Enishi. She might be able to give her friend advance warning, so she would not be deserting Aoshi, but also have nothing to report. It was, not a perfect plan right now, but it would have to suffice.  
  
She chose gray. Neither white nor black, but with shades of both.  
  
"Alright, Aoshi-sama. You win. Tell me the rest."  
........  
  
I apologize to the Aoshi fans for the current treatment. Don't worry, I know he's not as bad and awful and coldhearted as he seems. I'll make it up to you guys.  
  
Thanks to those who reviewed Passenger Seat, my one-shot songfic. I liked that mushy little song ever since I've heard it. When my brother played our MP3 of the song, the concept for the fic just popped up. ^^ I remembered reading somewhere how Enishi always reminds a writer of a fast red convertible...and it started from there.  
  
Tesuka-chan-Pinoy ka pala, ha, kabayan! ^^ According to my brother's copy of the CD, the percussions guy is Dain, and I have to agree with your opinion of him. ^_^ Unfortunately we never got to see the Stephen Speaks concert. Thanks for compliments. Hope you keep on reading!  
  
Chiki-san-Thanks for liking Passenger Seat! Hope that when you see this, you've been totally convinced to accept the E/M movement! ^^  
  
Doujin-thanks for liking Passenger Seat. Yup, you got it all right! And you're not the only one who likes Enishi. ^^  
  
Max-Thanks much! No more about White Tiger from now on. ^^ You do realize, of course, that Siberian tigers now have an effect on me? Penn and Teller won't be the same again.. ^_^;;  
  
Kyanos-I've never thought of Misao as air-headed comic relief; she's just in the Britney Spears situation ("I'm not a girl, not yet a woman.."). ^^ She's a very capable young lady! Thanks for the support!  
  
Tiian-Chap 7 was the second chapter I ever wrote with more description than talking, the first, as I said, being in Nine Months. I don't know. Just write what comes, then proofread later. It makes for faster updates. ^^  
  
Shiomei-Hi again! I won't say it's a new style. It's just that the stuff that was happening is better said in description than dialogue. But I am trying to mix in more description than previously. I think I have more description now than I even had with Nine Months!  
  
Sabbie-Arigatou! I'm beginning to like Eni-chan a lot too. ^^ You want to MARRY Eni-chan (with the "I do! I do!" in the Passenger Seat review)?! Midterms? They're done, and I actually passed! Your question? Hmmmmm, a very good one, and I don't have an answer for it! Certainly there will be less remorse on Kenshin's part.....probably less affection for the -gumi, but a little less of the uneasiness about Kaoru.....and we'll never get to meet Eni-chan!!  
  
Firuze-nee-san-Thanks much, for knowing Eni-chan so well!! Your tips are always very very helpful! Thanks for the Passenger Seat review!  
  
CardMistressSakura-Um, I don't know yet, really. I'm still deciding who she ends up with. ^^  
  
Mi-Same answer as above. I really don't know yet. Thanks for liking Passenger Seat!  
  
Chitchat-Thanks much for liking the inner dialogue.  
  
Fan-Thanks much for liking Misao! I like her a lot too!  
  
BittersweetKandy-Calm down, as you can see by now Enishi went nowhere. ^^ Thanks for the compliments!  
  
Chavi-WestWind-No problem! I hope you don't forget again!  
Currently I'm getting as many people (more or less) as I used to get for Nine Months! Thanks everybody!! 


	9. a revised mission

Hello everyone!   

I suppose almost everyone has heard a Japanese person  speaking in fluent English (not affected English, like Owari Kai from Shin Hakkenden does). It has a distinct accent and way to it that tells you where the speaker comes from.  That's the effect I'm driving at in this chapter.   ^^   For some reason, people in my country can learn to assimilate foreign accents and manners of speaking fairly well.   

Everything in _italics_ is supposed to be English. Everything else is supposed to be Nihonggo.  ^^    

………………………………

The okashira of a few months listened to the okashira of a few years, as if life depended on it. She had no idea if Okina even reminded the present okashira of who took over in his momentary absence. Either out of familiarity or out of love, neither man took her very seriously, and always made sure that she was safe from danger.  Did they not remember, that she had capably traveled the expanse of Japan, alone, at 15 and 16, to find Aoshi? That she stood up as a leader—and was respected as such? 

Maybe this was jealousy on his part, and this was his way of showing it. But why was he taking it out on HER? It was not fair to her, it was not fair to him, his white-haired---rival? She had done nothing wrong; she only became a friend to someone who needed her. He had done nothing wrong either—at least, not by his word and not by her knowledge.  

She would show him. He was wrong, he was dead wrong about him, and she would prove it.  

She had the okashira's word that the police would not mobilize earlier than midnight. By reports, the exchange would occur then. The Oniwabanshuu would be in place by 10 o'clock, and begin surveillance. The members assigned to the factory and the mansion would be in place at 9 o'clock.  Misao had a gap of three hours to work with. 

Misao lost no time, and ran to the factory, as fast as her legs could take her. Before anyone else could mobilize, she had to warn her friend about his impending arrest.  

Upon reaching the huge building, she waited for no courtesies, forcefully opened the main door, and headed straight for the general manager's office. She did not wait to be showed in by the secretary, and quickly opened the door.  

Fortunately the manager was alone at that moment, reading an American newspaper from behind the desk. Misao locked the door behind her and presented herself in front of the desk.  

_"Good afternoon, Makimachi!" _he greeted in lightly accented English, from behind the newspaper. _"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" _he asked easily with a smile. 

If not for the obviously Japanese and Chinese touch in the speech, the man could be mistaken for a foreigner. He was tall enough, a few inches under six feet, and he wore contemporary Western business clothes, from the smart tie to the polished leather pumps.   

"Enishi-san, the police are going to arrest you! For illegal weapons trade!" Misao hastily announced in a whisper. 

_"Yes, I know," _he answered without lowering the newspaper. 

"They have the Oniwabanshuu's assistance on this, and they'll have all the exit points covered!" she continued. 

_"I would expect that," _he replied nonchalantly. _"I met you a few hours ago."_  

Misao however, could not make out any of his words, and scratched her head.  "Enishi-san, listen to me! They plan to arrest you……….tonight."  

He fell silent for half a minute. Then he folded the newspaper with full compsure. _"Tonight? Really? So soon………….Could you please ask them to wait a week? I do not have all the documents ready yet." _ The manager had not lost any of his calm, and was making this entreaty in the most businesslike air. 

Misao, on the other hand, was utterly confused. "Wakarimasen, Enishi-san." 

_"What do you mean, you do not understand?" _

"Atashi wa Eigo ga wakarimasen!!" Misao protested.  

_"You do not understand English? But I have been talking to you in……English?…….Oh………." _he ran his hands through his snowy head, and laughed at himself. He then continued in his native language,  "Shitsurei shimashita, Misao. I got carried away by the newspaper. I suppose I was more worried than I thought, and more worried than I wanted to show you."

"That makes two of us," Misao nervously replied with a grin. "What were you trying to tell me a while ago?"  

"I would have been ready for those bastards, a week from now," he began to pace the room. "All my papers and documents would have arrived here by then. Nobody would have anything to show against me, because the documents would prove me innocent. I know about the weapons exchange tonight. Someone from inside the factory is the mastermind, but I don't know who.  I have tried everything to stop it, but it seems this person knows what I've been doing, and circumvented my obstacles."  

"So you have sent people out to get your documents?" 

"Yes, but a report came that one of them has been killed by a gang, on the way to Tokyo," he stared out the window of his office. "That makes the wait longer."  He paused again, and looked at her with a very odd smile. "Do you realize, Misao, that this is the first time I have showed someone else my anxiety about anything? If I did this kind of thing back in Shanghai……….well, I will not be here talking to you." 

Misao could not believe that the succeeding words came out of her mouth. "Um, anything I could do to help?"  

Have you flipped, Misao? She mentally reprimanded herself. You chose gray---stay there! Just give him enough warning and enough time to escape somewhere! And leave! Take your post where Aoshi-sama wants you!

Enishi continued to stare out the window at the setting sun, thinking about his options dwindling as the sun disappeared.  He had one card left. He drew it. 

"Could you possibly go to Tokyo, tonight, on the train? By my calculations, if you get to Tokyo tomorrow, and get the documents, you will be back here in a week."  

Tokyo? Well, at least Tokyo was nearer…….it was still in her country………….it was half-familiar territory………and she figured she could get to Tokyo alone, without Aoshi-sama………and it WAS a mission, wasn't it? It could clear her friend, and hopefully get him in good terms with the okashira again………..And she wanted nothing better than to make friends out of the two gentlemen in her life. It was a good offer.   

"But what about………….Aoshi-sama?" she faltered.  

He looked at her from the window with sinister eyes. He returned to the desk, and pounded it in desperate anger. He showed her his blazing blue-gray eyes.   Misao could have sworn she saw the beginnings of the dreaded nerves of insanity.   

"I have other informants, then and now.  I never paid attention to you then, but I have kept tabs on all eight of you.  And I know how he has been treating you.  Does he take you for who you really are? Does he see what I see? Does he know what I know? Does he see beyond a little girl he grew up with………..does he appreciate the little girl he taught……..who grew up into the indomitable woman I see? Well?"  

She bowed her head. 

"Does he love you?"  

"I don't know."  

_"My point exactly," _he ended in English. 

He sat down, took out his glasses from a pocket and cocked them over his eyes.  _"I love you……….when will you accept that……..accept ME?"_

"Nani?" 

However, Misao thought she understood three words……….and blushed profusely. 

He brushed his words aside.  "Nothing, nothing."  He stepped to where Misao sat, and took up her hand.  "I have nothing much to offer, Misao. Money, power…….I know that isn't much to you.  But, I have always been a man of my word. Trust me, please."        

There was no time to think, and there was no turning back.  

Misao agreed, with a single nod of the head.           

He went to his safe, hidden behind a painting, and retrieved a set of papers, written half in Chinese and half in Japanese. 

"In one of the papers is a map to my private island----you know the one, I'm sure. There are directions to the island in another paper. Another one has the layout of the resthouse at the peak of the island. It has directions on where to get the documents I am looking for."  

"So this is the duplicate of the one you gave the man who got killed…….." 

"No, the ones he carried were the duplicates, and not all the information in them is correct. These papers I am giving you are the only ones I have left.  I am giving them to you, because I know I can trust you, and I know you can get back here in time." 

"But who do I give them to?"  

He enumerated a few key people that he knew in Tokyo…………none of which Misao was remotely acquainted with. The Oni was familiar with government officials, powerful businessmen, rich politicians. Shady characters for the most part did not move in the same world as Aoshi did.    

"I have no choice, then," he concluded with a sigh. "I never thought the time would come………but it has………………."  Another long pause, then he handed the papers to her.  "Give them to Battousai……no, I mean, Himura."  

"Himura?" Misao could not believe it either. "We DO know the same Himura, right? Small, redhaired guy---what am I saying, yes, we do know the same little guy---But are you sure?"  

"Yes," he assured her, as his face expressed problematic hope and confused insecurity. "I understand he is still connected informally with the police, so he would have contacts there, but would not have to make them involved in my case.  Tell him the situation, and get his help. Tell him there is no motive behind it. If he chooses not to help his brother-in-law, he has nothing to fear from me. However, if that happens, find, in any way you can, the other people I mentioned.."    

From the safe, he also took out a small box, and opened it before her.  Inside the box was a beautiful gold ring, simple, not very large, but elegant like the owner. The center did not hold a stone, but a small yin-yang symbol, made out of a white and a black pearl. 

He directed her attention to a small mechanism, similar to those found in pocket watches, at one side of the circle. It partially loosened the circle from the ring. He inverted the circle, and revealed a raised character inscribed in reverse.  His complicated name character.  He then replaced the circle into the holder, and eyed the ring thoughtfully.   

"I used this ring to seal documents years ago," he explained. "With this, the leaders were assured that they were dealing with me personally. This is the only thing I kept with me from those days." He held her hand again, and slowly slipped the ring into her finger.  "I'm giving it to you, for your protection. And to remind you of me." 

He was serious, deadly serious, about risking a huge enterprise, not to mention his life and freedom, into her hands.  This was even scarier than having to singlehandedly---deliver him to the police.  

"I can't do this, Enishi-san," she pleaded. "Too much is at stake, just to give it to me………" 

"I believe in you, Misao," he convinced. "You are only the second person I have fully trusted and believed, the first being my sister.  I believe in what you can do." 

If only Aoshi-sama believed in me as much as you do, Misao mused.   

But she returned to practicalities.  "What about clothes? I can't go back to the Aioya now………….they'll be mobilizing in one or two hours."  

He pointed to a far corner of the office. The two trunks from the night of the sakura festival were stacked, one on top of the other.  He spoke with confidence again.  "I will not bother to explain why they are there. Get as many clothes as you need. It's a complete wardrobe, I can assure you.  None of that uniform of yours, though. A lot of those absurd petticoats you women wear."    He directed her attention to an adjacent dressing room and nodded.  

Misao took a deep breath, opened the trunk, took out the green traveling frock from the top of it as well as a few underthings, and resolutely marched toward the dressing room.  She had observed women who wore these kind of things, so while she had some trouble, she got every important piece in the proper place, in the record time of fifteen minutes.  She did not forget that time was still running out on her rather generous friend.  

As she appeared before him again, he chucked in admiration. She looked even better than he imagined at her first try. He rebuttoned the blouse from the back and ruffled the petticoat somewhat. He then topped the ensemble with a matching green hat with a few flowers decorating the side.  

She gave the impression of a well-travelled woman of nobility, her long braid completing the picture. She seemed like one of Manet's portraits, come to life, to grace Enishi's lonely abode.   

"Perfect! You are a sight to behold, and you will buy us a little more time," he praised. "And, you dress a lot faster than most women I know."  

Misao sweatdropped at the slight jab on her less than womanly ways. 

 "Now, there is a carriage at back. TRY to walk there as……..well………..as ladylike as you can…………and tell the driver to take you to the train station. Tell him I said so."  

As a final touch, he took from the trunk the purse that accompanied the dress. He filled it with some paper bills and coins, and handed it to her along with the documents. "The money should be enough for the train tickets and some expenses. I suggest you keep the papers in your dress, and not in the purse, just in case the purse gets stolen."               

Misao was astounded. Less than an hour ago, he had lost all hope. Now, he was again completely in control of the situation. Surely, it was this leadership that made Yukishiro Enishi possibly the youngest mafia boss in recent history, and currently one of the youngest businessmen in Japan. 

She had one final question before this new operation took effect. "Enishi-san………….aren't you coming with me? I am giving you the perfect chance to escape. Take it!"  

He continued to gaze upon the beauty, partly his creation, and held her cheek lovingly. He said with a sad smile. "No, I am staying. I will see this case to the end. I have no reason to run. I remember what a certain young lady said to me. A gentleman does not run away from his problems. A gentleman faces them with an honorable mind and a brave heart. A gentleman does not force a situation to run his way. A gentleman uses each situation that comes his way to his best advantage." 

She recognized her words with some embarrassment, but admired the courage he showed her. As she had seen the foreign ladies do, she spread out her skirt as she bowed, giving her version of a curtsy. "It will be a pleasure to serve a gentleman such as yourself, Yukishiro-san," she said with a happy smile. 

"To reiterate your mission, my dear lady," he summarized, "Take my carriage and get to the train station as quickly as possible. Get into the train to Tokyo. Find Himura, and get his help. If you run into any trouble, use the ring to your advantage. Get to the island and retrieve my papers, then come back here. We will prove to them then what they refuse to believe." 

"Understood." 

"Take care, and do your best, Misao. I believe in you. Now go."  

Misao hobbled to the office door and unlocked it. 

"Ah………anou,  Misao………." 

"Hai?" 

"Aishiteiru." 

She looked behind her, at the handsome young man smiling quietly. 

She did not know a lot of English, but this much she knew.  

_"I……..love………you."  _

As the carriage clattered away, two men hid in the shadows and watched it disappear. 

"The boss' new woman," one of them remarked. "The one who actually got his attention." 

The other nodded. 

"She is one of the reasons why he has stayed out of the 'business' for so long. We're about to change that. We're going to get the boss back." 

"Very good, sir," the listener commented.  

"Wire Tokyo," the man ordered. "Be on the lookout for a woman wearing green Western clothes." 

"Yes, sir." 

"She is to be………..eliminated." 

"Yes, sir."  

…………………..

To settle any questions here and now………no, it's not Heishin. ^^   

Aishiteiru—As a verb, the act of loving, present progressive form.  Never mind…….the usual translation as "I love you" is right. 

Nani—what? 

Shitsurei shimashita—Forgive my rudeness;  I apologize   

The ones early in the chapter have direct translations in the text.    

On to reviews: 

Midori—thanks for reviewing Passenger Seat! I sure hope you still get to see this reply here! 

Sabbie—In reply concerning Aoshi……….I'm singing again:  "He's a brick, and I'm drowning slowly………Off the coast and I'm heading nowhere……….."   ^^     As for the Vandread fic……update maybe next week. My brain can't process for Bart Garsus just yet.   ^_^   

Firuze-nee-san—Thanks again for putting into words what I only know in my subconscious. Yes, you got it, about Enishi possibly taking Misao who-in-the-world-knows-where, that's why I put in that last statement at the end of chap 7.  We do have to remember though that Okina knows Enishi only by reports, not personally, and he gets reports only from Aoshi or Misao.  So if his viewpoint is still a bit twisted…….Aoshi is to blame?  ^^    You have the whole 28-volume RK canon, right?  To know Aoshi that well, too.  I only have the Jinchuu arc and the end of the Kyoto arc, and the rest I only have the anime to go by.   

Ro-chan—Get it on?! Um, I can't write like that, sorry.  ^^ ;;   Thanks for liking the chap!  

CardMistressSakura—Ok, please stop crying………..I can't believe you're still reading this!  Thanks for the support all the same! 

BittersweetKandy—Thanks for the support! Enishi IS cool, when you get out of the stereotypical thinking and really understand him!  

Chitchat—Thanks for liking that last chap. Essentially, though, the "black" part is really for Misao, and not Aoshi.  ^^  

Tiian—By now you know that Misao has left straddling the fence. ^^  

Tesuka-chan—I suppose nobody can stay in the gray for long, ne?  

See you all again!  


	10. a terrible hindrance

Sorry for the delay. Chapters will come more slowly in the next few weeks. I have a script to write (I am serious.), a research paper to make and a book review to pass. In two weeks. All that notwithstanding, I have to think over the coming chapters very well. ^^ Hope you all understand, and keep reading.  
  
After 10 chapters, do I still have to remind anyone that I do NOT own a certain white-haired businessman?! But I've learned a lot about him over those 10 chapters, and I can never get back to calling him a psycho. ^_^ Keep praying and hoping that Sony would someday animate him right.  
  
..............  
  
The carriage screeched to a halt in front of the train station. The driver stepped off, opened the door, and helped the uneasy young passenger out.  
  
"Thank you," the passenger in green calmly said to the driver. "Take care of your boss for me, will you?" The driver nodded, took his seat again, and drove away.  
  
Misao was now alone.  
  
And she was mentally pounding her head to a wall.  
  
She must have been in a trance for two long hours. Two long eternities.  
  
She barely remembered what exactly happened. She went there just to warn her friend. Suddenly she found herself agreeing to go to Tokyo for him, wearing a long and unwieldy green dress, using a precious pearl ring. On top of all that, she---what?---actually, truly, sincerely, said "I love you" to him?!  
  
Among Yukishiro Enishi's many talents, she never knew that casting hypnotic spells was one of them. She could not recall any magic bottles in the room, nor any mystical smoke, any swinging pendulums, or any tainted food and water. Maybe it was the glasses, the hair, the ENGLISH?! English is a horrible gaijin language! It has evil enchantments with it!! If the English language did that to a person, she was sticking to French. No, it must have been the glasses, definitely the glasses...  
  
What was she thinking?!  
  
She shook her head as much as her restricting frock allowed, and tried to focus. Enchanted or not, she was fulfilling this mission. Her friend's life and reputation was at stake. Aoshi's trust in her hung in the balance.  
  
First things first.  
  
She located the nearest of the Oni's pigeon posts, and wrote a quick note to the okashira.  
  
Aoshi-sama,  
  
I am very sorry for letting you down, but I can't find it in my heart to do what you ask. I'm heading to Tokyo, and I'm going to get proof that Enishi is innocent. I want you two to be friends, don't you see?  
  
Misao  
  
She then tied the note onto a pigeon's leg and sent it on the way to the Aioya. She made her way to the train station again, and bought her ticket to the next trip to Tokyo.  
  
"That's the one, the girl in the funny green dress," someone in the shadows pointed to an associate. "We tail her to Tokyo. We meet up with our- friends-there." He smiled maliciously.  
  
The girl in the funny green dress, trained for years in the science and art of espionage, was aware of being followed, if not of who was following. True to her training, though, she did not let on that she knew. It just made her more cautious. She readied her kunai in the purse and inside her sleeves.  
  
This was not the first time she had traveled alone, and she was not afraid of any danger she might encounter. She bravely stepped into one of the train cars, and found a seat with a good view of the windows, both doors, and most of the seats. Aoshi-sama would be proud, she sighed.  
  
She dared not sleep, all throughout the trip. She knew that the men who trailed her would wait for any chance to get at her. Unfortunately, staying awake for such a long ride, at night, was not easy. When she went to Tokyo with Aoshi, they left in the morning, and he allowed her to doze off. Now she did not have her Aoshi-sama's broad shoulders to lean on.  
  
She spent her time, therefore, thinking about her decision.  
  
Did she regret giving her love to Enishi? No.  
  
She could honestly say that. He had earned it. He had shown her respect. He was completely honest with her. He did not impose himself on her, contrary to expectations.  
  
She had learned to love everything about him. The turquoise eyes that penetrated your heart and sought the truth in your soul. The handsome face that hid hard-earned wisdom, and sadness. The brilliant mind that spoke through an elegant mouth. The hair that betrayed the deep sorrow in his heart and the control only he had on himself. The physique that displayed unlimited power in his grasp. The clothes that expressed his love of what is purer and finer in life. The love he showed, that knew no boundaries.  
  
She had learned to love him, like Kaoru learned to love. Not his past, nor his future. But what he was, right now.  
  
Like him, she saw no other man to love save Aoshi, until now. She had simply cultivated a girlish infatuation until it became more to her. She suddenly noticed that the love she had tried to grow, had turned into nothing more than a scrawny wayside plant. This new love grew quietly, quickly, but surely, and beautifully. It was like a beautiful white rose- rare and delicate, and remarkable.  
  
It was impossible to put this relationship into a stereotype. Even if she did say she loved him, she was not his lover, she was not his concubine. She was..a best friend...the way a husband is the wife's best friend.  
  
Did she hate Aoshi now? No, she did not hate him. She had much to be grateful for from him. She still loved him---as an older brother, as a surrogate father. Not as a lover.  
  
Still, she missed his quiet strength beside her on this trip. It made her uneasy, stepping off at the Tokyo train station, to be alone in a crowded and slightly unfamiliar city.  
  
"Good, she's off the train," one of the strangers noted, a few meters away. "Get our gear ready."  
  
Should she telegraph back to Kyoto? Misao wondered, then decided against it. She was being followed, after all, so therefore there would be contacts elsewhere who could possibly intercept the telegram and create problems. Eventually she would find a way to tell Aoshi-sama she was safe. She ruffled her petticoat, tilted her hat, and bravely began to walk through the city.  
  
She remembered enough of the route to Himura's house, to get to the market. Unfortunately, she got confused from there. Tokyo's streets were rather different from Kyoto's, and she was not used to the crowds rushing to and fro through those streets. She was better at finding her way through the woods and the forests. Soon she found herself hopelessly lost, somewhere in the middle of the market.  
  
Still she kept her wits about her, and realized that more than two people were following her now from a distance. They hid behind stalls and posts and doors. She readied her kunai.  
  
She dared not stop at one place, knowing that her stalkers would take that chance to grab her and do something. But she was getting very tired, very fast. The Western dress was annoyingly hard to walk in for itself, with the many layers of fabric dragging around her legs. Then she had to wear unfamiliar leather shoes, and walk gracefully with them. She was never complaining about kimonos again. She had to pause, take a few minutes of rest, regain her bearing and rethink her plans. If anyone attacked, her brain and her weapons would be ready for them.  
  
She was still thinking of stopping, when a powerful presence swept her forcefully onto a deserted alley.  
  
"Give us the papers."  
  
"Not in your life!"  
  
"Don't make me treat you rough, little miss."  
  
Misao looked all around her. She was surrounded by six, muscular men. They were traditional Japanese attire, but something in their faces told her they were not her countrymen. The eyes were squinted differently.  
  
Never mind where they came from. They were all armed with clubs, swords, and nunchucks.  
  
She decided not to do anything stupid. Long dress notwithstanding, she took the battle stance, right arm in front of her person, four kunai positioned between her fingers.  
  
Within a few moments, a small and thin man came out from the shadows. He wore black Western pants, a brown vest and a white collared shirt, buttoned very precisely. His weasel-like face ended in balding hair swept backward with even layers of oil. A methodical man, he seemed to even count the steps he took toward her. She felt that she had seen him before, in Kyoto, but she was not sure where.  
  
"Don't make it hard for yourself, my dear. Give us what we want, and we won't hurt you."  
  
"What do you want from me?" she asked as if it were a threat.  
  
"Simple. We want the boss back. The only way we can get him back is if you are out of the way."  
  
"The boss?"  
  
"Innocence does not match your personality," the man smugly replied. "You're the boss' woman, and do not deny it. You are carrying his ring."  
  
Misao only grasped her kunai harder, and made the white/black pearl ring glisten through her angry right fist. The six bodyguards now had her and the man in a tight circle.  
  
"Let me tell you the situation, my dear miss," the man continued. "Since the boss left the organization two years ago, the business had been slowly going under. Wu has been running it like crazy. He doesn't know half of what he's doing, and the organization has been tricked countless time already. He'll never be what the boss was---and we need him back. We all need him. Those who work below him, and the top bosses above him."  
  
Misao understood enough, and answered for the boss. "He won't come back to you. Not now, not ever."  
  
"Ah, but that's the problem. YOU will tell him not to come back. YOU are the main reason why he continues to fight our plans. YOU are the one we have to take out of the picture."  
  
The man ended with a very sinister grin.  
  
"Unless...," he crooned, "you decide to help us, instead. You have good instincts and good sense. Tell us how and when we can get at him, and we'll do the rest."  
  
She threw two kunai at him, and hit his left arm. "I will die first."  
  
"Have it your way," he suavely answered, slightly wincing.  
  
He snapped, and spoke three syllables in Chinese. All six men gave assent.  
  
And attacked.  
  
The men came from all points simultaneously. Two blocked her arms. One grabbed her legs. The three others gave her blows to the face and the back. It was too much for the young woman to handle, already disadvantaged by her clothes. She tried to wriggle and squirm out of their hold, but they were all too strong, and too well-trained.  
  
At least they did not muffle her yet.  
  
"SOMEBODY, HELP ME, PLEASE!!!!"  
  
A burly man thwacked her hard on the head, and left her stunned. The others pinned her to the ground.  
  
"Chief, can't we have a little fun with her first?" one asked in Japanese, as the men began to tear up the dress and the petticoat.  
  
But the young woman had not given up the fight. She gave out one last cry. "HELP, PLEASE!" She kicked the men away with all her might. "SAVE ME!"  
  
"Get rid of her now," came the order.  
  
A final rain of blows were delivered.  
  
She was left sprawled on the ground, bloody and bruised in her whole face, arms, and body. She tasted blood in her mouth, her breaths came with difficulty, and her vision had gotten cloudy. She barely made out----a sword, raised above her heart.  
  
This is the end, then, she thought.  
  
Mission failed.  
  
Thank you for everything, Aoshi-sama. I am glad I knew you, Enishi-san.  
  
This is goodbye.  
  
....But the sword did not come.  
  
Through the haze, she heard someone else shouting, even threatening. Then the clash of steel on steel. Then men groaning in pain.  
  
Eventually someone spoke near her, a new, kind but anxious voice. "Are you alright? Please, talk to me! I have to get you out of here!"  
  
She no longer understood the words. She felt weaker by the second. She felt life departing with every new minute.  
  
She was lifted off the ground, on someone's arms.  
  
"Hold on, please. I will get you home as soon as possible," the voice promised.  
  
But she no longer heard the voice.  
  
She was back in Kyoto. With him.  
  
It was early morning after the sakura festival. She slept soundly at his house. He was kind enough not to wake her, but she felt the strong arms wrapping around her gentle body. He carried her so well, it felt like she floated on a cloud, brought by an angel.  
  
"Please! Stay with me until we get home!"  
  
She looked up, just for a second, as she floated down the stairs, in his arms. In her sleepy eyes, she saw a friendly face. An angel.  
  
"Please, do not die on me!"  
  
He wore blue, this angel, for the occasion. He wore white often enough, almost every day. It complimented his snowy head. She felt secure with the angel. She knew he would take care of her, always.  
  
"Stay with me, Misao-dono!"  
  
She closed her eyes to sleep again, and felt that her dreams were safe with him. He was a gentleman, he was her angel, and she loved him.  
  
She went limp.  
............  
  
Please don't kill me just yet. I have not murdered anyone yet. Wait for the next chapter, before you quarter me and boil me in oil.  
  
Please check out , a forum board I and some anime-loving friends from the old Anime Grapevine have made. We'd really like it if you'd visit.  
  
Thanks to Chiki, JML, Lly, bittersweetKandy, Sabbie, NightRain and kyanos for reviewing Laundry Blues! ^_^  
  
CardMistressSakura-thanks for taking time to read RK Titanic-and reviewing a lot of chapters! That one was my very first fic, and I wrote like the something-of-a-scriptwriter that I am. ^^ Sorry for the shocker.  
  
Chavi-Westwind-No, your question is legitimate. A -gumi is an organized group of people, generally speaking. Example is the Shinsengumi, a group of samurai who acted as auxiliary police during that time. -gumi is used rather loosely in anime, that's why you have the Kenshin-gumi (the gang, basically) and the Urameshi-gumi (YuYuHakusho). Thanks for the compliments!  
  
BittersweetKandy-Thanks for liking chap 9!  
  
Mi-I hope you liked what you got!  
  
Sabbie-I hope I cleared up some of the confusion you had. If you're still confused, I hope to settle it in the next chappie. ^^  
  
Iceangel-Opo, Pilipino ako. ^_^V Thanks for the support! I hope the problem you're having is fixed already! Sometimes you just have to refresh a page or something.  
  
Devil-Thanks much for the compliment!  
  
Ayce Shade-No problem! I have the same problem with some fics. Thanks again!  
  
Firuze-nee-san-Sorry you had to wait a while for the next chappie. Thanks for liking the last one! Oh, and thanks again for the tiger!  
  
Dragowolf-End pairing? I don't know yet. ^^  
  
Tesuka-chan-THAT Western dress Misao had on was SILLY to the extreme! Pesky Sony filler arc animators...grumble-grumble. I have been thinking about the confusing part you mentioned, don't worry, I have it covered. ^_^  
  
Tiian-You got it right. I'm trying to say that Enishi is THAT fluent in English. ^^ That kind of thing happens a lot in my country. I have cousins who are talked to in my language, but they reply in English. ^_^ Thanks for liking the choice.  
  
Well, that's everybody so far. Thanks for reading! 


	11. a different house

First, I will reiterate.  No one is dead yet.   ^^   Sorry for such a horrible cliffhanger.   

Also, remember that White and Black comes out of a side story in Nine Months.  Therefore, Kenshin has already married Kaoru, and Kenji is already their baby son.   If you haven't read Nine Months yet, this would be a nice time to do so.    ^_^   

"Anata" and "koishii" are sweet names for spouses.   This chapter will run in dialogue.  I've noticed that I compensate for long description chapters with a long dialogue chapter.   ^-^  

……………………………..

_"Anata, where are the vegetables? Your clothes are all torn, what happened? And who is this?" _

_"No time to explain, koishii. Please get a futon ready. As soon as I get her into the house, I have to go to the doctor." _

_"Who is this?……………Masaka………..what happened?! Why is she here?" _

_"I do not know yet. That is not important now…….go into the house now and take care of her for me………..hurry!" _

_………………………._

For her, it was still the morning after that memorable night. 

She was a ninja, after all, and she was trained to be aware of her environment. It was rare that she slept very soundly. Even now, she faded in and out of drowsiness.  He could have drugged her, she knew—he even told her he could.  For some reason he did not.  If she was still rather sleepy, it was not his fault. She was just simply tired from all the walking she did that night. 

She distinctly heard the rumbling of carriage wheels outside, and the clip-clop of horses' hooves through the pavement. She felt a warm blanket wrapped around her, and a warm lap under her head. 

He was taking her somewhere. Where, she did not know.  

But soon the rumbling and the galloping ceased. So he did not take her far. This was even too short for the train station or the port. Whatever plans he might have had, he was not following them.  Probably, for the first time in his life.  

He was a gentleman, indeed. He respected her choice. She was glad she trusted in him. 

As she snuggled back into the blanket, she felt the strong arms take her up again. She floated up a flight of stairs, then was laid down in a futon.  

She was too tired and too happy to bother and find out where.  She slept in quiet peace.   

……………………

_"What did the doctor say, anata?" _

_"No serious injuries to the head or the neck, koishii, thankfully. We only have to give her time to rest." _

_"Thank goodness. Oh, here, anata. I found these papers in her dress. I think you better keep it for now."_

_……………………… _

She awoke and sat up in bed. Her head was pounding horribly, and she put a hand to it. She was surprised to feel bandages around her head, and to see gauze over her arms and hands.  She looked down at a new sleeping kimono and new sheets. She looked around her.  Aside from being in an unfamiliar house, she saw two anxious people sitting beside her bed. A woman was holding a smiling baby boy, and a man beside her had unusually red long hair.   

This was not real. This was a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. 

"Where am I?" she asked the man and the woman sitting nearby.  

"You're in Tokyo, at our house," the man answered with a unique smile. 

"No, it cannot be. I live in Kyoto. Where are Okina, Okon, Omasu, Aoshi-sama?"  

"Sessha does not understand what Misao-dono is trying to say," the man scratched his head.  "You got into trouble and I managed to save you in time." 

"No, I wasn't in trouble! I was just at his house last night! We had fish and crabs and rice, and green tea……… I'm not drunk, I swear! Last night was the cherry blossom festival, and I found him, and he brought me to his house………" 

"But, Misao-dono, the sakura festival was a week ago,"  the man tried to convince her.  

"They hit her pretty hard," the woman noted to the man, and shook her head.  "Look, Misao-chan, all you need is a little more rest and you'll be alright." 

She quickly stood up. "I'm alright now! Please believe me! I didn't do anything crazy last night! I wasn't drunk----"

"MISAO!" the couple shouted out in concern. 

"I'm alright! Now tell me where Jiya and the rest are. I have to make them believe me----"  

She suddenly felt weak in the head and knees, and fainted.   

………………………

_"Any word from Kyoto?" _

_"No instructions, only that they are grateful she is with us. It is as if they do not want to divulge information. Something is wrong in Kyoto, koishii. There is a reason why she is here, and the sooner we find out, the better." _

_"How? She has been awake only 15 minutes in the last two days!" _

_"Let us be patient, Kaoru-dono, and let nature have her course. ……..Wait, Kaoru-dono, look at this article in the newspaper…..this might be the key…….."_

……………………...

When she woke up again, nothing had changed. Bandages were still on her head and arms, a strange kimono was on her person, a different futon under her, and the couple was still beside her.  

This was not a dream, then.   Something happened to her, after she arrived in Tokyo………on a mission……….for someone……….to find someone………aaaaaa…….what was it about again?!  

"Ohayo gozaimasu, Misao-dono," the man greeted, and offered a bowl of soup.   She took it without a word.  She felt so hungry, she did not know why.  

She remembered she had a mission………of some sort, and she had lost valuable time.  She tried to stand up from the bed. 

"Take it easy, Misao-chan," the woman eased her back into bed. "You're in no condition to walk yet." 

Half dizzy and half confused, she complied. "Thank you for your kindness, good sir and good lady, but I have a mission to do, and I only have a week to do it."  

"You're not going anywhere today," the good lady declared. "Whatever your mission is, we've told the Oni that you can't complete it yet."  

"But the mission is not for Aoshi-sama------um, what should I call you?" 

"Oh………no…………." the woman looked anxiously at the redheaded man beside her. 

"Himura Kenshin de gozaru," the man introduced himself calmly. "My wife, Kaoru-dono. My son Kenji is the one over there in the basket."   

"Himura……..Himura…….." she tried to rack her brains.  Her mission involved having to look for……. "Himura? Are you the one I'm looking for? Please tell me!"  

"Why would Misao-dono be looking for me?" 

"It's part of the mission. I have to find Himura……..show him the documents……..give it to him……..he has to help me find some other documents in an island somewhere……….."  She fumbled through her kimono.  "But where are the papers?"  

Himura took out several pieces of paper from inside his gi, and spread it before her. 

Much relieved, and too focused to ask where and how he got them, she unfolded all the documents. One of them was a map of Tokyo, its bay and nearby land formations.  Another was a blueprint of a house. Two other papers were a list of other documents.  

A last paper contained the following words in Japanese, Mandarin and Cantonese, and English: 

_The following documents must always be in the hands of the one who wears the ring. The bearer of the ring must be given full access. If the documents are found with someone WITHOUT the ring, the documents and the bearer are to be eliminated with haste and without mercy.  _

_There will be only one exception:  if the documents fall into the hands of a man with red hair and a cross-scar on the left cheek, he too must be given full access.  _

_Any man who defies these words will answer for it with his life.      _

It was left unsigned. The power in the words was a signature in itself.           

"Well, now, the person who sent you has a lot of respect for me, I will say that," Himura commented.  "Speaking of which, Misao-dono, if Aoshi did not send you, then who did?"  

She tried to think again. Come on now……….what was his name again? She looked again at the pearl ring, still in her right hand, and tried desperately to get clues. She took it off, looked all over the band, to no avail. 

"Do not trouble yourself if you cannot remember," the redhead reassured. "It will come to you eventually."    

"But he said I need to get your help!"  

"And I will help you. At any rate, I cannot leave you alone for any length of time in your condition. For now, take your rest. We can start on this mission of yours next week."

"But I've lost a day already!" she protested.   

"Three days, actually, Misao-chan," the man's wife, the one called Kaoru, answered.  "That's how bad you were hurt." 

"Several men attacked you for some reason," Himura explained. "You called for help. Fortunately I got there in time to do something."  

She tried to get out of the futon again. This time she managed to stand up.  "I have to go. People are trying to get me killed, and something terrible is going to happen in two days, or something already happened, to Shinichi….." 

Himura looked at her and the papers thoughtfully. Kaoru's face expressed deep concern for her standing up and swaying like a young tree in the breeze.    

Finally he spoke again. "Alright, Misao-dono. We go fulfill your mission tomorrow. But right now,"  he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and set her down on the futon again, "I will have you resting."  He lay her head back on the pillow.

"But……..."  

He hushed her again, and slowly stroked her hair and face. 

She recalled how……he…….touched her so……..sometime in the night of the sakura festival. How he ran her fingers through her hair, held her face so gently, touched her arms with such warmth.  It felt so wonderful to be caressed in such a way, by such a man. 

She closed her eyes again, and dreamed of him.  

…………………..

_"Shinichi?" _

_"Shiroyuki Shinichi, according to the newspaper. He was arrested in Kyoto yesterday, on suspicions of smuggling." _

_"But why would this Shinichi get Misao's help and ask for yours, anata?" _

_"I have seen this name, Shiroyuki Shinichi, before. A year ago, Aoshi asked me to check on the buyer of a gold weasel pin, a gift to Misao while they were here. That was the name given in the jewelry store's records. Now it all falls into place." _

_"I don't understand, Kenshin." _

_"Someone who knows at least 3 languages, owns a small island, can order anyone to be killed by a piece of paper. Someone who used to know murderers.  Someone who knows me enough to give full confidence in me. It can only be one person. This is confirmed by the character hidden at the sides of the map, the blueprint, and the document list."  _

_"So you're saying……." _

_"Shiroyuki Shinichi is an alias, another name. For Enishi." _

_"Are you absolutely certain?" _

_"Yes. If it is true what Misao-dono has been trying to say, then Enishi is innocent, and this arrest is based on false evidence. He knew beforehand, and has asked her to get documents to clear his name. I do not know why he went to her and not to Aoshi, but he definitely needs our help." _

_"So, you are really going to help her, go back to Kyoto with her, and see this case settled?"  _

_"That is the plan, Kaoru-dono……… if you consent." _

_"………….He is family, after all……. Alright. Don't worry yourself about me and Kenji. We'll be fine here." _

_"I promise to take a short a time as possible-----"_

_"Take as long as you need. I believe in you. You are the one who can best help her now."  _

_"Arigatou, Kaoru-dono."   _

……………………………

A few quirks I established in Nine Months:  (1) Kenshin still calls Kaoru "Kaoru-dono" every so often. (Don't dispute this anymore—I've had plenty of it in Nine Months.) (2) I only use "sessha" and "de gozaru" only when Kenshin should sound unusually respectful for some reason.    (3) Kenshin does not "dono" Aoshi, Sanosuke, Yahiko, and Enishi. 

Three reviewers didn't get the last part of chapter 10, so I will explain.  "–dono" is a courtesy title Kenshin uses, instead of  "–san". In English, when Kenshin uses it for Kaoru, they usually say it as "Miss Kaoru".  It's one of his trademarks, the others being "oro", "de gozaru" instead of 'desu', and "sessha" instead of 'ore' or 'watashi'.

eloquent-lotus—I don't know what to answer to your question.  ^^  But thanks for reading! 

Sabbie—Walk cycles, aye? Enishi's would be tall and confident, I bet. Much like Smallville Lex Luthor's! Enishi and Lex have a lot in common, you know!  ^^

Devil—Thanks for being so patient! 

Mi—Thanks for the compliment! Thanks for your patience, too! 

CardMistressSakura—Um, all I can say for now is, thanks for still reading White and Black!  ^^  I can't comment on the ending yet.  

Ro-chan—Thanks for the compliments! Get it on, get it on?  I still don't know.  ^^ 

Dragowolf—You didn't know? I hope this chap clarifies everything. Thanks for reading! 

Tiian—Yup, Kenshin is saving the day again!  ^^V  

BittersweetKandy—Well, it's not Enishi, so I hope by now you know.  Check my explanation above. Thanks for reading!  

Firuze-nee-san—Thanks MUCH! Thanks for the compliments!! No problem, I liked it being a long two cents! 

Tesuka-chan—I didn't hurt the heroine—too much, as you can now see.  ^^  

Chitchat—Thanks for liking the dream sequence.  How many times do you ever see Enishi described as an angel?  I so liked doing it!  ^_^V 

Chavi-Westwind—Thanks! I don't like long skirts either!  ^^  

Thanks to everybody for enduring such a long read in chapter 10! I hope some questions were already answered now. The chap after this (as well as for How to Impress a Girl 101, for Vandread) might come after some time, because I need to really think about my reports next week. Please be patient, and please keep reading!      


	12. a different perspective

Personally, EK is definitely and vehemently against war.  

Those of you in my territory and have AXN, I suggest that you take some time and watch Rave.  Yeah, I know, it's kinda weird and all.    But pay close attention to Hal/Haru.  He's an Enishi spinoff. He has a large sword, white hair, earring, neat pants (no glasses though)---and he has a cute older sister, that looks WAY too much like Tomoe!  ^_^   Unfortunately, for all that he's a spinoff, his features and his basic personality is not a lot like the original white tiger.   ^^  

Speaking of Eni-chan……

………………………

                Misao had shut the door behind her. 

                Once again, he was alone.  Once again, he paced the floor.  

                Was it true, what he heard?  Did Misao really say "I love you" in English to him? Were the beautiful jade eyes full of love, real?  Did he not hear things in his head? 

                She loved him!  

                He could not believe it. She was not forced to say it, yet she did. She was not forced to go to Tokyo, but she did. 

                She was going to Tokyo, for him.  For him!

                But…….was he correct to risk everything on this one woman, feelings notwithstanding? What if something should happen to her? What if people came after her, in coming after him? What if they should---kill her? 

                What was happening? 

                This was unprecedented for Yukishiro Enishi, worrying about an informant and a messenger. There was a reason why every plan had a plan B. Especially in his former line of, business, if it could be called that, nothing was certain. Anyone could be caught by the police, or killed by rivals. It was part of the business, and every operation considered it.  No one felt sorry for anyone who ran into trouble in the line of duty. He was simply replaced.   Now he could not "simply replace" Misao. There were no more copies left of the documents he gave her. She was already the unexpected backup to a desperate plan. There was no plan after that.  

                He could only give everyone else, the impression of a Plan B. There really was no Plan B. 

                But so far, nobody had any solid evidence against him. He would keep it that way.   

                He took off the business clothes he had on, and took on the famous, or infamous, Chinese silk jacket. He loaded two pistols and hid them in the jacket. He then cocked his purple glasses over his nose.  

                He filed away any and all remaining business papers into his safe, glancing at each one for any he needed to tear apart. There were none. All legitimate documents for a legitimate business.  He was irritated. What had he done that those government dogs did not do? Why did he have to face the law for something, for once, that he did not have a hand in?    

                He would not give them the satisfaction of triumph.  

                It was 9 o'clock when he left the office, as calmly as if he had spent an evening with late paperwork.  He exited, prominently, by the front door.  

                He stopped by the large oak doors, and glanced at the bushes and nearby corner of the factory building. He quietly cocked one of his pistols. 

                "Makimachi has gone to Tokyo, Shinomori," he discreetly addressed the air around the front door.  "You can observe the activity at midnight for all I care. You will find me at the mansion. Good evening."   He then walked easily out the gates and into the street.  

                No one would dare touch him without a reason, he knew. He reached home without ceremony or event.  

                It was imperative to show, at least, an external appearance of calm. As he had learned in Shanghai, servants had ears to walls and doors, and eyes on windows and keyholes. Any sign of fear would get them suspicious, and make them more alert. So he ate his dinner as usual. He did not let on that his vegetables reminded him of a green frock, hundreds of miles away from him.  

                But he could not sleep. Her happy face would not leave his dreams. He did not know what was worse: not seeing his sister, or seeing his first love. At the times he did see his beloved sister, her smile did not comfort him. He was worried for someone alive. Hopefully, still alive, alive and well.  

                The next morning, dark glasses covered sleepless eyes. 

                All that day, he finished up all of his paperwork, fixed final business arrangements, established final organizational documents. He did not know what those dogs had in mind, but he would be prepared for them. He knew it was coming, and much of the tedious work had been done. It was only the last few things that he needed to settle.  

                One final thing he wrote. He already had the document notarized; it only had to be filled.  This one was only in Japanese. 

                _My name is Yukishiro Enishi. I have no direct living relations. In the event of my death, all documents related to my business are to be inherited by my associate. Everything else will be given to the family of Himura Kenshin, husband of my deceased sister. Himura is to freely assign whatever he deems appropriate to give to Makimachi Misao, I have no idea what she would ask or she would need. Absolutely no one else, aside from these three, are to benefit from my demise.  _

This was the most recent of several wills he had already written in his life. This however was the most official yet most personal of them all.    

                Yet the day proved uneventful. No news of her, and no signs of arrest.  He had learned nothing new about the midnight exchange, whether it happened or not. His secretary was gone for the day.  All was quiet. The day was calm, deadly calm. 

It was late afternoon when he finished the short will. He closed his eyes for a few minutes, resting them from a long day of paperwork.  

_Enishi!_

"Nee-san?" 

_Your friend is in danger! _

"Who? Misao?" 

_You will be next!_

"Wait, nee-san, what will happen to Misao?" 

_She and you are in danger!_

"Wait, nee-san, what will happen? Nee-san!!" 

He awoke with a start.  Oh, no, how long had he been asleep? He stared sadly at the stars twinkling outside his office window. He had lowered his guard for quite a long time. He frantically checked through all his documents, and sighed with relief. They were all there, even the will.  He kept them all and hid them in the safe.  

                Still, it helped to be cautious.  He went straight home that evening, not deviating from his usual route. 

                He did not eat his dinner, and went to bed immediately.  

                He was about to fall asleep, when he saw his sister again.  

                _Enishi!_

                "Nee-san! Please tell me, what happened to Misao?"  

                _Evil has been done to her……..she had fallen to a long sleep…._

"Details, nee-san, details!"  

                _It was done by someone close to you…….watch your back, Enishi….._

"But what about Misao, nee-san?" 

                _Take care of yourself, Enishi. _

She was gone. 

                The sun rose from behind the mountains. So he had slept through the night, but he did not feel rested. He even felt more miserable this morning than yesterday.  His sister had made vague comments about Misao being in trouble, but what could he do? He did not even know where she was right now! Did she make it to Tokyo? Did she encounter robbers or assassins along the way? 

                Just when he was finally assured of her love, would he never see her again?  

                Such was the question bothering Yukishiro Enishi that day. Employees admired his sense of style and composure amidst rumors in the factory of an internal smuggling ring. They never imagined the agitation hidden by his dark glasses. To them, it was business as usual. Their young manager was completely in control.  They greeted him warmly as he left his managerial office that afternoon. He had waved a nonchalant hand at all of them in return.  

                It was now the second night after Misao left on a new mission. If all had gone according to his calculations, she should have found his brother-in-law already, and by tomorrow be on the way to his island hideout. Within three days she would be back, and he could tell his sister that she was wrong.   

                He ate his dinner, pondering what his sister had tried to tell her, but not knowing what they meant. He barely tasted what he was eating; it all mixed into one bland flavor, as his mind was occupied with his little friend, and more, miles away.  

                A servant appeared before him. "Sir, the police are at the front door. They say they want to ask a few questions." 

                That did not scare him. He was used to this. It was better to cooperate and appear innocent, than to act nervously and arouse suspicion.  He presented himself before the unusually large number of policemen at his door. "You wanted to see me?" he asked with a disarming smile. 

One of the men, one he knew to be a respected captain, stepped forward. "Shiroyuki-san, could you identify this purse?"  He presented an ivy-green, Western-style purse for his perusal.  

It was heavily stained with blood.  

Imperceptibly, Enishi took a step backward and made a very slight gulp. "I recall giving such a purse to a lady friend of mine," he answered without being specific. "Where was it found?"  

The officer ignored the question. "Was it you who placed the money inside the purse?"  

"It depends," he smugly replied. "Where did you find the purse?"  His heart pounded hard against his chest.  

"An informant handed it to us.   He found it in Tokyo."  

"How? How did you know to come to me?" His hands began to sweat. 

"The informant claims he has seen you before with a young woman, the one who was carrying this purse. She was described as petite, had long hair tied in a braid reaching to her waist, and was wearing a green foreign dress."  

Enishi hid his shaking hands behind his back.  

"And the young woman?" 

"The informant found her dead, in an alley."  

_DEAD?! _

_Misao is dead?!_

"She resisted arrest in Tokyo. She was shot by police, he claims." 

He lost it. He could only look straight past the officer, past the police scattered around the garden, past Kyoto.  

He only saw her, her beautiful eyes, her wonderful lips, saying the last words he would ever hear from her.  

I…….love……..you.     

"So you admit you sent her to Tokyo?"   "Do you admit that you placed the money inside the purse?"   "Do you admit that you sent her, as a messenger?"   "Do you admit that she was to give the money to contacts in Tokyo?"  "Do you admit that the money was for the weapons exchange two days ago?"    "Do you admit to be the mastermind of the exchange?"    

He said yes to everything.  

He was asleep yet awake, dead yet alive.  His eyes saw nothing.  His ears heard nothing. 

"Shiroyuki Shinichi, the city of Kyoto arrests you, for weapons smuggling."  

He followed all orders, without knowing what they were. 

She was dead. Only that was real. It was worse than when his sister died. Misao was dead by his own hand, by his own orders.  She was dead, he did not know who killed her, he did not know exactly where. He was too far away from her to stop it.  

If there was anyone he could exact revenge on, it was only himself. The realization knocked the life out of him. 

If Makimachi Misao no longer existed, neither did Yukishiro Enishi.     

White and black were no more. 

He returned to reality, coming from the darkness of despair.  

He found himself inside a dark place, a physical manifestation of the darkness in his soul. A prison cell.  He was seated with his back to the wall. The drab prison bed had not been touched. He was wearing a simple shirt over tasteless trousers—traditional jail uniform.  

His more rational self took over. 

WHAT was he doing in jail? He had done nothing illegal in the last two years, he was absolutely certain. He had made efforts to prove that. He had even………sent Misao to Tokyo to prove it…………Misao……..

He stood up to think it over better.  

"Finally. Welcome back to this world, Yukishiro."  

He turned his eyes to the prison bars.  He saw the dark uniform of his chief rival, his arms folded stiffly before his chest.  "What more do you want, Shinomori?" he growled.  "Makimachi is gone. Neither of us will have her now."   

"Misao is alive, Yukishiro," the okashira simply stated.   

"Stop lying to me. I could tell you what you dogs want to know, without playing your psychological games," he sneered.  "I will get my hands on those who did this to her," he clenched a fist at him, "and if you are one of them, you will pay with your life."  

He flicked a piece of paper at him. Then the okashira began to walk away. "I will come back tomorrow. I want you to be a little more reasonable then."  

Stupid man, he snarled to himself, giving a defeated man false hopes. He saw the purse, he saw the blood, he heard the report.  

She was not coming back to him.  

Once again, he was lost in a place darker than his cell.       

…………………..

Just in case I have scared anyone senseless, realize that this is another view of PREVIOUS events.  

bittersweetKandy and for everyone else—That plot device is called post-traumatic amnesia, at least my version of it. It happens when some damage happens to your brain, usually because of an accident.  The person forgets what happened before or during the accident. Depending on the kind of trauma, it can be temporary or permanent.  

Thanks to Mi, Ro-chan, Firuze-nee-san, Anime-Angel-Goddess, and Sabbie for reviewing Singing in the Rain! The things I can make up when I don't want to write a report……. ^^  

Thanks to tatsumaki, Chibi Washuu, and Ai who also reviewed Laundry Blues! Special thanks to Ai who also reviewed The case of the red robin, and placed me in the favorites list! 

Sabbie—Thanks much!  Your friend Elena is very talented to pull that off! I hope you do get in with your portfolio.  Oh, you're a very very talented illustrator yourself! Thanks very much for the drawings!   As for the onion comment, I got that from Shrek. "Ogres are like onions….."  "Coz they're smelly?"from Donkey.  "NO! LET ME FINISH---!" Then Shrek goes on to say that onions have many layers.  I watched the movie last Saturday and got major laughs.   I'll be getting back to Bart and Meia sometime next week.  ^^  

Tesuka-chan—I'll see what I can do with poor Shinichi-kun.  ^^  Yes, that chapter WAS short.  ^-^

JML—Sugoi! I get another review out of you! Arigatou gozaimasu! Sorry for the mistake, I honestly didn't know. Hope you keep reading and helping out! 

Firuze-nee-san—Best of luck with your DSL account! Thanks for the offer to place White and Black at your site!   Good points, btw, they might work their way into the next chapters.  

Mi—Eventually, she will……..^^  

Dragowolf—You're welcome. Thanks for still reading, that tells me you're in favor of the E/M movement even halfway!  ^^  

Chitchat—Please don't wait until White and Black is set and done to read Nine Months (You might have to wait another month! ^^). As I've said plenty of times, White and Black is only here because of Nine Months. Nine Months stands alone. I had an awfully long writer's block for the Nine Months chapter 15. Then a silly idea came up, and a lot of people liked it a lot—and that's why White and Black is here.      

Ro-chan—Take it easy, my friend. She did not forget a lot.  ^^  As to the getting-on, I still don't know what to do about that.  Try White Tiger Jade Concubine. Now THAT's getting it on.  ^^  

Shadowfox—Arigatou gozaimasu. I have Firuze Khanume to thank for making Enishi so real to this unworthy writer.  I'm a Filipino, unfortunately I can write loads better in English than in Pilipino. Comes with reading and watching too much English stuff.  ^^    

CardMistressSakura—I'm still not commenting.  ^^  Thanks for reading!!  

Tiian—Are you quite sure about Aoshi?  (evil grin) ^_^  Thanks for the compliments.  

That's everybody! Thanks again!  


	13. a threatening confrontation

I'm still against the war. I'll continue saying it until it's over.  
  
Yay! Sprited Away won the Oscar!! Chicago is Best Picture! "Lose Yourself" (from 8 Mile) is best song! Yahoo!!  
  
Midori and I are having an effect on people! There are several more authors seriously using E/M in fics! Yeah, I know, I shouldn't be comparing, but I still think Midori and Firuze are the masters of the white tiger. Compared to them, I barely know him. ^^  
  
And now, for your reading pleasure, performing with the famous white tiger, the one, the only, Ice Blue Eyes.  
  
.......  
  
In a prison cell, the day is as the night. In the depths of despair, there are no hours or days. Food, a bed, other people-these do not exist.  
  
But mythical beings did. He distinctly heard them, speaking in some language he thought he understood, but had not heard for some time. Chinese.  
  
"Are you sure about this?" one being asked the other, rather close to him.  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure," the other being replied. "The boss will snap out of it eventually. When he does, we'll make him top man again."  
  
"But this is cruel!"  
  
"You should've seen some of the things the boss did back in Shanghai. This is nothing. You don't know him like I do. The boss lives for revenge. You just have to give him a reason to find revenge."  
  
So, the beings were talking about him, aye? Deciding his fate? Planning out his future life?  
  
He had to admit, revenge was a good idea right now. He never trusted the police much in his life. He had tried to stay on the good side of the law, and it landed him in prison. He would make the police understand just how much of a mistake they made. They want an enemy of the state? He will give them one. He will get them all! Every single one of them will go six feet under. Starting with Shinomori Aoshi.. First he stole his revenge, then he stole his only love..he will get what he deserves.  
  
He had stared at the floor of his cell for an eternity, when he noticed a scrap of paper. He remembered, Shinomori had left it for him. He unfolded the paper, and frowned at it.  
  
It was a telegram, slightly crumpled and gathering dust.  
  
----Misao staying at dojo STOP wounded and weak STOP threatened then clubbed by suspicious men STOP await instructions STOP Himura Kenshin----  
  
Staying at the dojo? Threatened and clubbed? But didn't the police say she was shot? Another lie; he was being fed another lie! Even worse, Himura was lying to him as well! And he had trusted him!  
  
He rounded the paper into a small ball and threw it across the bars. "No more games! No more lies! LEAVE ME ALONE!"  
  
"It is not a lie, Yukishiro," a voice from outside the bars replied. "Misao is alive."  
  
Japanese, and a familiar specter. "Shinomori," he snarled. "Why should I listen to a liar?"  
  
"Why should I be helping a liar from the first, if I did not believe him?" the specter retorted.  
  
"Why you---"  
  
"Look, Yukishiro." The annoyance barely showed in his face, but it was there. "I have been coming here for two days already, expecting a decent conversation. You might not believe it, but I want to help you."  
  
Enishi grunted and sneered at him, both hands held on the bars. "Supposing what you are saying is true, and Misao is alive. You merely want my help in getting her back here, and you want information out of me. Then, when you have it, you will allow me to rot here, like the scum you think I am for taking your woman."  
  
"I am not that low."  
  
"Prove it."  
  
"Alright." He folded his arms again. "First, you could have been shouting at me from the new mental hospital, had it not been for my intervention. You, sir, have been talking to a certain ghostly nee-san, at all hours during the last two days, and you have threatened two guards with their deaths."  
  
The prisoner merely smirked. He had been called insane before.  
  
"Second," and he took out several pieces of paper, "I have been going through your office documents and police evidence. The documents used against you are not written in your hand. They are still inconclusive, but they are enough to convince me that you are to be believed."  
  
Enishi grabbed the papers from the okashira and scanned them hastily. "Accounts of guns, cannons, bullets. Payments, expenses. Dates of exchanges. In my style, yes, but not my handwriting-----you are correct."  
  
"Ah, finally, the man I have come to see," the okashira smiled.  
  
He became all business, disheveled hair and dark-ringed eyes notwithstanding. "Do you already know who gave these to the police?"  
  
"Someone from inside the factory, according to them. Obviously, someone who has access to your documents. They refuse to disclose the name to me."  
  
"Even if you do know, whoever he is, he will deny it," the white head nodded. "However," he added suspiciously, "that does not change the fact that Misao is dead."  
  
"It is in their interest to make you BELIEVE she is dead," the okashira explained. "It will make you take their side. Therefore, I am telling you. I believe that Himura's report is correct. To make you believe me even more, we received another one today." And he gave it to him.  
  
----Misao better now STOP tell brother we will proceed with request STOP expect us in three days STOP Himura Kenshin----  
  
She is alive! Misao is alive! It was not a lie! It was true! And she was coming back in three days!!  
  
Then Enishi got suspicious again. "Why are you telling me this? Isn't it in YOUR interest to convince me she is dead?"  
  
"No," the okashira said flatly. "You are Misao's friend. You have a right to know."  
  
He gave a smug smile.  
  
He paced his cell, and thought of the next words to say. Having decided, he sat on the floor again, with his back to the prison bars and to the okashira.  
  
"Tell me, Shinomori. Plainly. Truthfully. Do you love her?"  
  
Shinomori remained silent.  
  
"You kept me away from her for months. You guarded her like a dog. There must be a reason."  
  
"We were not sure if you were still a smuggler, or the simple businessman you claim to be. Until we knew, we had to be cautious."  
  
"But you met me in Tokyo...I told all of you....I gave you the whole story.."  
  
"I did not want Misao to be hurt. I did not want her to be deceived. I did not want her...to give her heart to a lie."  
  
"Because you love her."  
  
"Yes." Simple, precise.  
  
"As I love her."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Enishi was stunned into silence, then chuckled quietly for a few seconds. "And yet you do not want me out of the way? You even help me?"  
  
"I have found you to be sincere. It is my duty to ensure an innocent man receives justice. After that, it is her choice to make about what to do."  
  
The prisoner began to laugh, long and loud, maniacal.  
  
"And you think that being kind to me will win her over to you? Not anymore, Shinomori Aoshi! If you really love her, you will tell her so! You will tell her in simple words that you love her. You will treat her like the woman she is! You will show her that she means the world to you! Until you do that, you do not have a chance, and you will someday regret that you let me live. Misao is alive, you say? Well, then, Shinomori Aoshi. She will come back to me!"  
  
The okashira did not respond, and walked out.  
  
"I love her, do you hear? And she loves me!" he shouted after him.  
He slumped to the floor again, and fell to musing.  
  
She loves him...she loves him...right? Only him? He was not mistaken, right?  
  
For all the show of bravado, that yes unrattled him. He did have a rival. It was not his imagination. However, for some strange reason, he did not doubt the man's intentions.  
  
He doubted his friend's heart.  
  
What right had he to claim her? He had only really known her for a year. The man had known her since birth! He was her whole world. He was her Aoshi-sama. If things went according to his plans, he would come to her favor again, and she would ..love him again. Of course, he wanted his freedom back, and he would surely cooperate with Shinomori. But what would happen to himself after that?  
  
She was alive, yes, but she would not be his.  
  
That was not his idea of a life.  
...............  
  
Misao watched the butterflies flutter through the dojo's garden. She was seated at the front porch, well enough to walk around the dojo, but still unable to walk far.  
  
She waved a hand happily at Himura, as she saw him coming through the dojo gates. "I have just been to the port. We are free to go tomorrow morning," he greeted.  
  
Himura suddenly found himself inside Misao's warm embrace, and the recipient of a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Oro? What is the meaning of this, Misao-dono?"  
  
"I know who you are now, Himura," and she gave him another big hug. "I never saw exactly what you did, but I know I won't be alive if not for you. Domo arigatou gozaimasu!"  
  
"Do itashimashite, Misao-dono," he smiled. "Anything for a friend."  
  
They walked toward the kitchen arm in arm, when she unexpectedly came to a complete stop.  
  
"Something wrong, Misao-dono?" her support asked.  
  
"Ever get that feeling, Himura, that someone's thinking about you?" she asked in return, eyes looking straight ahead of her.  
  
"Too often," he sighed. "People who wanted me dead, people who wanted me arrested---"  
  
"Well, he's thinking about me right now, Himura," She looked at him with sad eyes.  
  
"Who, Misao-dono?"  
  
She scratched her head again. "Him, him...The one who sent me on this mission...him. And it's not Aoshi-sama."  
  
Himura raised an eyebrow at her. "Why is Misao-dono so worried about him, that friend?"  
  
"Because I love him."  
  
"ORO?! You love ----" Himura was taken slightly aback. "But Misao- dono forgets his name?"  
  
"I know who he is. I can point him out in a heartbeat. I just can't remember what his name is right now, that's the trouble. Do you know him, Himura?"  
  
He gave an odd smile. "We can talk about it more tomorrow, while we are on the ship."  
...........  
  
About Aoshi, regarding Misao's choice: "He had it comin', He had it comin', He only got himself to blame! 'Coz if you had been there, if you had seen it, I betcha you would have done the same!" ^-^V (Cell Block Tango, from "Chicago". I wanna see the movie, badly!!)  
  
Thanks to wynter_ashes, the ol' Aerichan, who put me in the faves list.  
  
Max-thanks for liking Singing in the Rain!  
  
Chitchat-don't worry, summer break is just around the corner! Thanks for liking the story!  
  
ICEANGEL-You'll have to check back on chapters 10 and 11. ^^ Yup, I like Cattleya (Haru's sister) too, she's nice and sweet! As for Aoshi, he's not that bad, I will tell you that much. I just don't like over-stoic guys, I guess. ^^  
  
BittersweetKandy-Will continue, will continue. ^^  
  
Mi-Aw, how sweet of you to give Eni-chan a hug! ^^  
  
Sabbie-I hope this chapter answers your question about mercy on a tiger? Thanks for liking Eni-chan!  
  
CardMistressSakura-I hope this chapter also answers things for you. ^^ Don't worry, I know Aoshi-sama isn't a bad guy at heart. I liked him a lot in the Jinchuu arc, you know! Thanks always for reading!  
  
Tesuka-chan-Thanks much! Yeah, I get your point, too bad I didn't think of it sooner, but I guess it's better things turned out this way. As it is, with what I did in previous chapters, I got a lot of people scared. What more if I thought of chap 12 sooner? ^^  
  
Dallisse-Hello and thanks a lot! I'm so glad you got it....Aoshi's not a bad guy, no, he isn't!  
  
Thanks everybody for reading! 


	14. a new ally

What happens when EK is scared to make choices that would decide the succeeding six years of her life?! You get fast updates. ^^ I have to choose my new school, and I'm between a rock and a hard place.  
  
I've been looking for a good chance to introduce a certain fellow, and now I have it. Hope you enjoy, but don't expect any deviation from the triangle I've made. After all, this is White and Black. Sorry about this string of dialogue chapters. ^^  
  
.............  
  
As the small steamboat chugged through Tokyo Bay, Misao's braided hair blew with the wonderful sea breeze. Himura's ponytailed red hair fluttered beside hers. They leaned casually on the rails at the top deck.  
  
"Misao-dono, could you please tell me more about this friend of yours?" he asked. "He seems to be special to you."  
  
"Shinichi? What do you want to know?"  
  
"Everything Misao-dono could tell sessha."  
  
"Well," as she looked dreamily across the water, "he's stylish, he's intelligent, he's elegant, he's very gracious. He loves his privacy and quiet. Unlike most men, he likes books more than being with people. I haven't told you, he even reads French!"  
  
Himura smiled in approval. "How do you know that you love him?"  
  
Misao looked up to the wisps of clouds sailing through the blue sky. "I remember that I hated him a lot, the first time I met him. But slowly, surely, as he opened up to me, the day seemed incomplete if I did not see him. When I could not see him, I would dream of him, and our great walks through the woods, and those wonderful readings."  
  
Himura asked again. "What about Aoshi?"  
  
"Well, Aoshi-sama, I'll always love him, of course. But now, I love him as a brother. If you ask if I love him now like I did before-he changed all that, Shinichi did."  
  
Himura smiled at this, then his face grew serious as he looked down at the frothy waves. "Misao-dono, what do you remember of Yukishiro Enishi?"  
  
Her brows knit together, and her nose crumpled, as she thought deeply. Then she clenched her teeth. "He's your brother-in-law, and he brought down hell on you. That enough?"  
  
"Aa." Himura lowered his head.  
  
"....but I think I'm forgetting something about him, something very important...."  
  
Himura seemed relieved. "You will remember eventually."  
  
Misao pouted good-naturedly.  
  
..........  
  
"Yukishiro-san...Yukishiro-san..."  
  
"You're mistaken, whoever you are," the prisoner mumbled drowsily, his back leaned on the prison bars. "Shiroyuki Shinichi. Arrested for smuggling." He added matter-of-factly.  
  
"Yukishiro-san! Yukishiro Enishi -san, wake up, please. I am here reporting for duty," a youthful male voice implored.  
  
The four walls of the cell spun furiously before his eyes. His head pounded heavily. For once Enishi noticed the untouched bed, and fumbled his way to it. But it seemed that the bed was moving farther away from him with each step. He opted to grab for the prison bars instead.  
  
He noticed a blue hakama and gi standing behind them. "Ohayo, Yukishiro-san," it greeted.  
  
He squinted to get a better look, and to focus his spinning view of the world on this new visitor. He was rather young, about as young as Misao, and undeniably good-looking. He seemed familiar, but he could not remember where he had met the young man.  
  
"You have to start eating again, Yukishiro-san. You look awful," the young man continued, as he offered a fresh glass of water.  
  
That was not far from the truth, the prisoner mused as he gulped down the water. His hair was all matted and tangled, and his eyes showed his severe lack of decent sleep. His cheeks betrayed the lack of nourishment. It was already the fourth day after his arrest, the sixth day after he saw Misao for the last time.  
  
"Do I know you?"  
  
"Seta Soujirou, at your service," the young man replied with a happy smile.  
  
"Are you sure? You used to work for someone, yes? Someone already deceased?"  
  
"Shishio-sama, hai. I'm freelance now. I get paid every once in a while for odd jobs. Bodyguard, spy, delivery boy---"  
  
"I understand. Shinomori asked you to come here?" The young man's smiling face was getting blurry.  
  
"Hai. He asked me to check up on you, and to ask what you might want done. He says he cannot leave the Aioya for any length of time."  
  
The pounding and the spinning continued, and even grew worse with each minute. All he saw now was blue. He breathed heavily. "Are you ready for a long list, Seta?"  
  
The young man nodded.  
  
"First, check on the progress of Makimachi and Himura. I don't care how you do it. Then, check if anyone besides Shinomori has gone through my office documents. Then.. get a doctor....but no hospital. Then...."  
  
Everything went blank and dark.  
  
Three hours had passed when he came to.  
  
He found himself in the bed of his cell, with the smiling young man sitting on the floor beside him. He immediately offered a bowl of miso soup and a glass of tea, served on an elegant tray. Enishi noted that the blanket, pillow, and sheets were softer than could be expected in a prison cell. He glanced at them in some surprise. They were his own, from his house.  
  
"You'll be okay, Yukishiro-san," the young man assured him. "You just have to eat and get some sleep."  
  
"Well, my charm still works on people," he smiled arrogantly at Shinomori, from under the covers, as he finished the simple meal.  
  
"Do not flatter yourself, Yukishiro," Shinomori replied, his voice full of ice, behind the prison bars. "The police allowed this arrangement, only because the evidence is still inconclusive, and they go against your official testimony."  
  
"What official testimony?" He quickly sat up and listened intently.  
  
"You admitted to being the mastermind of the exchanges."  
  
"I did NOT!" He slammed his hands onto the bed.  
  
Seta quietly gave him a transcript of an interrogation that he could not recall happened. The interrogated shook his head in despair at the testimony. Fortunately for him, though, many of the answers were restricted to "yes" and "no", without explanations. The papers and the tall figure of the okashira began to blur before his eyes.  
  
"The shock interrogation, I see. I've used it several times myself to get my way," he chuckled to himself. "It can be overturned by hard evidence against it, though. That is what Misao was supposed to get for me." His head began pounding again. "However, police are not known for effectively applying the shock interrogation. That would mean..."  
  
"Does anyone want you dead?" the okashira interrupted.  
  
"Aside from you," he smirked, "probably not. My enemies are mostly dead or in jail. I'm more useful to both police and mafia leaders alive."  
  
Shinomori ignored the haughty comments. "Does your former organization want you?"  
  
"It is possible. They didn't fire me, I quit. I do know that Wu is something of a bungler without someone over him." The remembrance made the room spin upside down. He lay back into bed.  
  
"I'll check on that angle." Shinomori rose to leave. "I'll be back when I have something for you." He turned his back on him, and motioned for the blue-haired young man to follow, carrying the tray.  
  
Enishi snuggled into the blanket, and said faintly, "Aa, anou, Shinomori...arigatou."  
  
"That would be a first," the okashira remarked. "Yukishiro thanking somebody..." But as he looked behind him, he found the man already asleep.  
...........  
  
"I remember this beach," Misao commented, as Himura helped her off the rowboat from the ship. "You fought Enishi here, right?"  
  
Himura only nodded in reply. His face told her that he was reliving a major turning point in his life.  
  
"Shinichi said there was a house at the top of the island." She tugged at Himura's sleeves, and coaxed him to follow a small footpath. "Come on, Himura! We have to get back to Kyoto as soon as possible!"  
  
They hurried along the route.  
  
The ninja and the rurouni made short work of the few kilometers. Both were skilled at their feet, and they had no enemies behind trees to worry about. All the same, Misao had an eye to the left, and Himura kept his on the right.  
  
"Just curious, Misao-dono, but what does this friend look like?" he asked as they reached the top of the island, with a large resthouse in view.  
  
"Um, anou, he was tall, and he didn't like wearing hakama or kimonos. He was always in Western clothes, except for this one time at the sakura festival----he looked dashing then!"  
  
"Could Misao-dono be a little more specific? Face, eyes, hair?" Himura inquired casually.  
  
"His hair was always messy, his eyes narrower than usual...." she rubbed her chin slowly as she tried to recall.  
  
"White? Was the hair pure white?" he looked intently at her eyes.  
  
"Aaaah, I think so...yes, it was."  
  
Himura stopped dead in his tracks, and held Misao by her shoulders.  
  
"Misao-dono has been describing Yukishiro Enishi to sessha."  
  
She was stunned. "Really?"  
  
"Listen to me, Misao-dono." He then said distinctly, "Shinichi and Enishi are one and the same person."  
  
"But Enishi is this obnoxious psychopath, and Shinichi is this wonderful gentleman...." She fumbled as she explained.  
  
The rurouni smiled at her. "Misao-dono. People have many aspects to themselves. You have to accept a person for what he is, completely, good traits and bad, past and present. That is what real love means."  
  
Something clicked.  
  
Her mind went back to that chance meeting in Tokyo, when a tall and annoyingly obnoxious young man asked, "What do you want from me, weasel?" He wore his classy trademark Chinese silk jacket and trousers, the trademark purple glasses. The trademark snowy hair was hidden under a tasteful leather hat.  
  
Her memory also returned to that night of the sakura festival. The elegant businessman she had grown to admire and understand, suddenly went berserk, demanding she come with him to Europe, to live with him. It took much of her courage to snap him out of his impulsive insanity then.  
  
Himura was right. It was not so long ago, but she had forgotten. Not because of the accident, but because she chose to remember the good days.  
  
In the words of a famous European playwright, her only love had sprung from her only hate.  
  
"But I love Enishi-san for what he is now!"  
  
"It does not change the fact that you have to know what he was before. The documents we will be retrieving? They might show what he used to be. Is Misao-dono ready to find out?"  
  
WAS she ready to know how much Shinichi-no, Enishi--used to be involved in crime? Did she really want to know how cruel he used to be? Did she want to know how heartless he once was?  
  
Did she really want to know the man she said she loved?  
  
"Lead the way, Himura," she ordered.  
.........  
  
"My only love sprung from my only hate" is one line from Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet".  
  
Sorry about last chappie. I was on a musical high. I haven't seen the movie yet, but my brother got me the OST, and the music is absolutely great! I like musicals in general. My all-time fave is Les Miserables (although I have yet to see it for real; I only have the OST). I also liked Moulin Rouge a lot.  
  
Sabbie---Really? That's OK. As I've told you, I'm rather a sucker for musicals, and Chicago is the newest movie musical to get it right. ^^  
  
Dalisse---Thanks! I hope you liked this one too! As to who gets the girl, the choice is totally up to you. Don't let people force you to a particular match if you don't want to do it. A well-executed A/M is still a very nice treat!  
  
CardMistressSakura---Finally, something we agree on! ^^ Of the Cell Block Tango stories, this is the ending I liked best: "Ya know, some guys just can't hold down their ARSENIC!" And the one with the warning shots...right into his head! I think that nee-san mumbling thing you mentioned was used in WTJC a few chapters back. ^^  
  
Tesuka-chan-Yup, I like Hamrio Musica too! Looks with attitude-nice! ^^ Thanks for liking chap 13 and Chicago!  
  
Chitchat-Thanks much for liking chap 13! Hope you liked this one too!  
  
Mi-Thanks!  
  
Tiian-No problem, I have the same problem with some fics I'm keeping track of. Many times a window stops running once I click to review, so I have to open another one. Annoying. Anyway, hope you keep reading! Thanks much!  
  
Firuze-nee-san-Scary, the compliments. Hope the house is coming along nicely. Personally I like earth tones in a house, and open spaces, and wood. ^^ Best regards to the new site layout!  
  
BittersweetKandy-Chapter so short? Sorry! It's just that the story is better said in dialogue now. The next few chappies will probably have the mixed type. Please don't check every day---maybe once every three days is fine. I do have other things to worry about, you see.  
That's everybody! Hope to see you all again! 


	15. an old journal

Disclaimer: Mr. Watsuki is the crazy mind who dreamed up Enishi. I only own a keychain with Enishi's picture in it.  ^^ 

I'm very happy! Japanese RK is getting shown once again in AXN.  Man, I've missed the Japanese Misao and Soujirou, and Mayo Suzukaze of course!  When, when, WHEN will they ever animate the Jinchuu arc?! 

Ro-chan gave me the nice idea for this chappie, thanks! The basic story is already all laid out, but I welcome inspiration for changes and additions whenever I get it.  If any of you out there are still E/K fans, please don't get mad at me for this chapter.   

……………………………………

Red and black slowly opened the large doors of the resthouse. They creaked discreetly, but offered no resistance. It was evident that the owner had opened these doors a few times ago before they did. 

All the furniture were hidden under white cloth. It was as if the resthouse was covered in snow from the inside. It quietly anticipated the return of the snow prince.  

The rurouni consulted the house's blueprints, and led his ninja friend to the second floor. 

They opened the door to one room. Under more white cloth they made out a Western bed, facing a window that overlooked a terrace.  Both remembered Kaoru's precise descriptions, and understood each other without a word. This was the very same room Kaoru found herself in, after being kidnapped by Himura's brother-in-law, Misao's best friend, two years ago.  Misao quietly squeezed Himura's left hand. He gave her a sad smile. 

They opened another room, the largest in the house. Misao was quite familiar with its setup.  The walls were covered by shelves, although they were rather empty now. A comfortable sofa, hidden under white cloth, faced a simple fireplace. Near the middle of the room was a large desk, dusty with disuse, but its strong and beautiful handiwork obvious to anyone.  Near this desk, to a wall, were several file cabinets. Hidden behind a beautiful French portrait, Himura found a large safe.      

The room opened to a large terrace, overlooking the sea. As Himura checked the papers and searched for the necessary documents, Misao found herself drawn toward the terrace. She espied a bamboo lounge chair and a small table beside it. Misao could quite imagine Shinichi—ahem, Enishi-san—sitting quietly on the lounge chair, his unruly hair blowing in the gentle sea breeze, his sleepy eyes covered by his dark spectacles.    

She closed her eyes, and dreamed of the elegant dinner she had, at a terrace much like this one, a few weeks ago. The wonderful conversation, the delicious food, the handsome face.  

Suddenly she also recalled a completely different man, wearing the same clothes, on that same night. He walked slowly and threateningly toward her until her back touched the bedroom door. His fiery eyes bored into her scared ones then. She quivered as she recalled how his powerful hands raised her by the neck, quite intent on forcing himself on her.  

When a hand unexpectedly touched her shoulder, she jumped with a start.  

"Maa-maa, Misao-dono," Himura reassured her. "I found the papers in the list." He presented them to her. 

Most were practical business papers, notes of exchanges, inflow and outflow of finances, descriptions of the weapons traded.  The dates on the documents all ended prior to the former smuggler's arrest, two years ago.  A few newer documents were also present, duplicates of the metalworks factory's operating procedures and founding documents. There was a distinct time gap between the old and new papers. 

One of the documents involved a list of people directly employed by the mafia boss.  They were classified as follows:  "Active",  "Suspended",  "Incarcerated"…………and "Eliminated".   

The final list was systematic.  Who, why, when, where, and by whom.  His name was included among those who had eliminated employees. It was evident that this was only for the use of the boss himself, and not to be seen by others. It was organized, but simple, and not meant to be used in official business.  While all of the records ended two years ago, Misao still gulped at the number of people the final list contained, a number nearing a hundred.   

Other documents provided evidence of involvement in almost all political activity, during the years of his leadership. He had supplied weapons for both police and insurgents, in all the neighboring countries. A few of his best guns and cannons had also found its way to California. Many assassins and criminals had been supplied with blades, guns, and artillery from his coffers.  

Misao could only mindlessly read through entry upon entry of illegal activity. She only knew the tip of the iceberg prior to this. All she knew was related to the confrontation with Himura. That was only the culmination of a long string of deception, cruelty, anger, and malevolence. 

Himura calmly handed to her a small notebook he found among the documents.  It was filled with the mafia boss' careful and sure handwriting. Each character was well defined and easily understood, as if the writer never rushed when he wrote. 

Misao bit her lip, and started to read aloud the elegant script.  

_……….I don't understand why I'm doing this now. Maybe it's something I learned from nee-san. Writing down your thoughts. Hogwash. I've always thought of it as leaving written evidence. But this means nothing to the organization, and it won't get me in trouble, so what's the harm?……………At any rate, there's nothing better to do in this cramped little island. ………._

_………My plans are working perfectly. Battousai will feel what it is to lose someone close to him. He will know what I felt when he killed my nee-san, he will know!…………_

_………And now, I can get rid of those four useless assassins. I know they all had private interests in this case, and I played my cards well. I worked their emotions and their brains to perfection. Now that I have what I want, we can all part ways. In a few days my henchmen will track them down, and make sure they stay mum about my involvement, for all eternity…………_

_………As for Wu, I did promise to give my part of the organization to him. The money, the weapons, the skills---they were all just a means to an end. Now that I have met my end, they mean nothing to me. He can have it for himself. It'll be a matter of two or three years, and he'll be ruined by it with his own hand. ………….. _

"Heartless, that he was," Misao commented. 

"You have to be heartless, if you work in the underworld," Himura explained. "Kindness gets you killed."  

"You should know, I suppose." She flipped a few pages. "Wait, here's something about a woman…….." 

_………She's still asleep, Battousai's woman. In MY bathrobe! What could I do about it, it was the only one in the whole resthouse. All the clothes in the house are mine. But I've seen enough of women to know; you can't possibly leave them in their clothes for a long time or they smell awful. _

_……….It's a good thing Wu brought a housekeeper with him. She got her out of that dusty kendo uniform, bathed her, and dressed her in the bathrobe.  I would NOT for the world, undress a woman, who didn't know or was not willing. Nee-san wouldn't want that. And besides, I've seen females too many to be interested in this one………_

"You mean, he wasn't kidding? He really didn't like Kaoru-san?" Misao found that really surprising. 

Himura did not reply.   

"But he made her wear his bathrobe?" 

Himura kept silence. 

"HIMURA!!" Misao shook the rurouni. "Your wife was left here two days, wearing nothing but a bathrobe?!" 

"Oro?!" He slapped his head a few times. "Gomen kudasai, Misao-dono. Yes, Kaoru-dono already told me. That was not what I was thinking."  

"What is it, then?" 

His voice came from far away. "Why didn't he kill Kaoru-dono?" He then looked at the next entry.  

_……..What did my brother-in-law see in this woman---this GIRL? She isn't that pretty, nee-san was much better-looking. Her body doesn't even attract a man!  She has curves in the right places, but nothing special. ……….._

_………The woman can't cook. The fish is burnt, the miso is salty, and the rice is not sticky enough. …………And she talks too much………._

_………..I hate her, almost as much as I hate Battousai. She's trying to be nice. She looks at me, like I was a man she needed to save, much like Battousai. Like I was a man who needed understanding. I need no such thing. Such tactics never work on me. More often than not, it sends a person to his death to be nice to me…………….   _

_……….The woman will die. Sending Battousai a taste of hell is not enough. I will send him there permanently. I will kill his love, in earnest, and I will make him feel what I know to be real every second.  Nee-san is not coming back, neither will she!…………_

"The NERVE of that infernal white-haired psycho!" Misao slammed the book shut, and waved a threatening fist in the air. 

"Aa…….." Himura mumbled, lost in deep thought.  His eyes were almost crying.  

She took up the book again, and opened where she left off. "I'm not reading aloud anymore. You don't have to suffer through this rigmarole. But I said I wanted to know everything about him, and I will."  

She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and readied her soul to read the next entry.    

_……….. I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it. Wretched woman. She looks too much like nee-san. How could I kill my own sister? It should not be this way. _

_………..Gein did not do the job well enough. Wu tells me that Battousai has gotten over the hell I've created. ………….He's coming to get her back.  …………..I won't let him. I will fight him. I'll even let that annoying woman see him, see us, see us fight-----see him die. Maybe not, because I will take her life first.  I'll even make him suffer first, then I'll show him, face to face, how with my own hands, with my own blade, I will kill his woman for real………………_

Misao sideglanced Himura. She thought she saw again the Himura she saw at the beach, two years ago. The sadness in his eyes, the determination in his face, the courage in his heart.  

Then she thought about the man he fought. It was a man hell-bent on revenge, until the end, when he had lost. That was what he had in mind to do? He really meant to kill his own brother-in-law, and Kaoru-san?!  

_………..Why did I wait so long to decide this? Why didn't I kill her sooner?  Did she have an emotional hold on me? …………..No, absolutely not……………._

_………..A woman is a woman is a woman. An instrument sent to take men down, as their greatest weakness. A tool that could be discarded as soon as one is done using them, or as soon as one has lost interest in them.  Nee-san is not a woman. Nee-san is another being altogether. She is my sister………..  _

_…………It was not profitable to kill her. It would have been a waste of time and energy.  Besides, a female's death is not as rewarding as a man's death. ……….That is all. _

There were no other entries.  

What would stop him from killing again? For exacting revenge again? On Aoshi-sama, on Okina, on the other members of the Oniwabanshuu, even on herself?  Was the self he had shown her, just a cover? Just for show? Just to get her? Eventually, when he had grown tired of her, would he eliminate her, like he had done the other people in his life? 

If Himura himself sometimes returned to his old Battousai personality, what guarantee was there that Enishi would not become a psychopath again?  

Was she deceived? For so long? 

Was Aoshi-sama right after all, to keep her away from him?  

Was she wrong to love him?  

She felt Himura put an arm through her back. "Daijoubu de gozaru, Misao-dono, daijoubu," he whispered. 

She brushed away the tears trailing down her cheeks. "I should be the one consoling you, Himura. He did this to you, not to me."  

"True, but sessha has forgiven him. Misao-dono has to do the same."  

"I can't, I can't, not after THIS! I can't face him again, Himura, I can't!"  

He rocked her gently and hushed her protests.  

"Misao-dono, this is what he was two years ago. Truly, it is a part of him you have to understand, to really know him. However, he is no longer that man. Time has changed him. YOU have changed him. Like you changed Aoshi, like Kaoru-dono helped change me."  

"It's all a trick, just a trick, like Aoshi-sama said. A trick to infiltrate the Oni, to spy on police, to get his way…………He never really loved me………..He just used me…………,"  she sobbed. 

Himura stood up, and returned the journal to the drawer.  He retrieved the documents, and placed them in a packet from the drawer. He then kept them inside his hakama.  

"Sessha is made to understand one of the principal codes of the Oni:  an operative must complete a mission given, unless he is killed in the line of duty.  Misao-dono must complete the mission she accepted, irregardless of what she thinks of the officer.  Is sessha correct?"  

Misao sniffed, rubbed her eyes, and nodded. 

He offered a hand. "Come, Misao-dono. We have to finish this mission. We have to know the truth."           

……………………………….  

I used what I know from the Jinchuu arc, not really the Seisou Hen.  The entries are what could reasonably be assumed from the manga panels and dialogue.   Once again, I don't hate Kaoru! I happen to like the girl a lot! But I do have to show things from our snowy headed friend's point of view.   ^^   

So annoying, I can't seem to cache for ff.net or Yahoo Mail, so I have a lot of fics and reviews that I can't read offline!!  I have a long list already of fics to read, some being Ro-chan's, Iceangel's, tesuka-chan's, Sabbie's, Accident Prone, the end of Fragile Balance, something about a dinner, an S/K/K story, etc. etc. and so forth, "……and all…….that……..jazz!" 

Nominate people at the Nikki Diary, she has an RK fanfic awards thing going there.     .   Chiki's When the World Revolves Around You is currently nominated for fanfic of the year.     

Cherry—Thanks for nominating Seven Days! 

Sabbie—Sorry about the portfolio.  We'll send Sou-chan over to deliver a bouquet of flowers for you.   ^^   Thanks for the nomination! I'm not worthy, but thanks!  

Dellisse—Thanks much! 

JML—Yay, he's back! Yup, that line is one of the catchiest in all of "Romeo and Juliet".  Well, they did say Sou-chan was going to be a rurouni of sorts.    

BittersweetKandy—I'm continuing, thanks for coming back! 

Ro-chan—I liked your story, very nice! Keep up the good work please!  I agree about Sou-chan's smile, but he has some very nice and un-creepy ones too.  ^^ 

ICEANGEL—Keep up the good work with your fic! You're now getting more people than even I do! 

Tesuka-chan—Thanks much! Nice fic, keep it up please!  

CardMistressSakura—Thanks again! I hope you won't be disappointed with this chappie! 

Chitchat—Thanks much! 

Firuze-nee-san—Glad to hear about the painting job coming out nicely! Hope you like this new chappie too. Just being realistic. Eni-chan was really rather creepy in his time.  ^^  

That's everyone so far. Thanks for reading!


	16. an anxious feeling

Hello! According to Emode's Inkblot test, my unconscious mind is driven most by curiosity. ^^ Makes you wonder what Eni-chan would answer in a Rorshach inkblot test....  
  
Much of this chappie got done while I tried in vain to upload chapter 15, the first day ff.net got those "site overload" things. I've just been reading the most recent chappie of WTJC. Man, I've a long ways to go.  
  
............  
  
"Soujirou-dono! It has been a while!" Himura warmly greeted the cheery young man. He had met Himura and Misao at the train station, the next morning. Misao was now bedecked in one of Kaoru's kendo uniforms, kunai stuffed in her hands, waist, and thighs. She had nothing against kimonos, but the hakama of the uniform allowed greater leg mobility for the ninja.  
  
"Hai. Life has been good to you, I presume, Himura-san? Your son is quite handsome, and your wife is in the best of health." Soujirou complimented.  
  
A few more pleasantries were exchanged. Seta explained that he visited Kaoru and Kenji yesterday afternoon, and departed hours before Himura and Misao returned to the dojo. Kaoru in turn had told him about their "cruise through Tokyo Bay, a little treat for Misao, you understand."  
  
"She was discreet, which was very wise of her," he commented with a happy smile. "I bring you greetings from Kyoto," he added, with an imperceptible glance right and left.  
  
"I hope everything is well with her friends there?" Himura asked with the same caution.  
  
"Maa-maa desu. I have a private booth reserved, we can talk there, agreed?"  
  
"Private booth? Where'd you get the money, wandering smiley?" Misao sneered.  
  
"From your friend, Misao-san," he answered simply.  
  
She frowned, and folded her arms. "I will take nothing more from that spineless, heartless, ruthless..." the blood was rising fast to her brain.  
  
"No more adjectives, Misao-dono," Himura warned.  
  
"Hai, not until you hear what I have to say," and Soujirou waved the two ahead of him toward the train.  
  
.........  
  
She knows. He felt it. He had felt it since yesterday afternoon. There was a coldness in the air around his cell, that was not there before. Animosity, anger, hate. He felt it, and he knew it was hers.  
  
He felt it the first time they had met alone. A supreme wrath at seeing an enemy of all things she held dear: friendship, justice, and truth. A repulsion toward a man who embodied the worst she felt in men.  
  
People had always kept their distance from him, physically and emotionally. Subconsciously, they felt that particular aura that he had. He had power to do evil, much evil. He had no heart for any man. He felt no sympathy for any creature. People did business with him, only because he was useful to their cause, and he benefited from the alliances and connections.  
  
He did not mean to lie to Misao, but he never recognized how little she truly knew about himself. She took him at his word, no more and no less. Evidently she liked what she saw, and she stayed on, and even grew to love him. But what she loved was the man she met in Kyoto. The one who loved books and enjoyed good conversation. The one who was a gentleman. She still abhorred the man he used to be. Now that she knew the full extent of what he used to be, she hated him with everything in her soul, even more than before. She felt deceived, and he knew she was right to feel that way.  
  
The mission was a mistake, he realized now. He should have gotten hold of Seta Soujirou earlier, and sent him instead. Seta was used to the workings of the underworld. He would not cringe at crime and retribution records.  
  
He had been too optimistic. She was not going to return to him. Worse, she now considered him an enemy for life.  
  
It would have been better if she really was dead. He could live with losing someone he loved; he had done that for most of his life. He could not live on, seeing her alive every day, knowing that he had broken her heart.  
  
All of these sad musings notwithstanding, Yukishiro Enishi already had enough presence of mind to seriously think about his dire situation. Who could have possibly gotten him into this mess, and how he could best get out of it. Much of the evidence still depended on what he personally knew, and not so much what Shinomori Aoshi helped him with.  
  
His mind ran through all his present employees, from the most important manager to the most insignificant janitor. He tried to remember all the people he had met over the past few months: business associates, messengers, carriers, rivals, even Makimachi herself. He thought he had put two and two together, but many inquiries led to a dead end.  
  
He was thus employed, when a new visitor knocked on the bars. "Even here, do I have to tell you to stop bothering me?" the prisoner welcomed the visitor.  
  
"Come on, now, sir, can't your secretary come visit you once in a while?" the visitor sweetly smiled back. He was a small man, with balding hair brushed back and heavily oiled. His eyes were shifty yet fearless. And his shirt and suit were very precisely buttoned to his neck.  
  
"Alright, alright, what is it now?" he asked with an irritated tone.  
  
"Sir, I've come to report that some documents of yours are missing," the secretary said.  
  
"Well, what concern of yours is it?" he arrogantly sauntered toward the bars, toward his secretary.  
  
"Well, sir, I just thought you wanted to know," the secretary continued easily. "Someone might have come in and stolen them, you know. Someone might use those papers to blackmail you, or to get you in trouble."  
  
"Someone like you."  
  
Enishi's face looked of murder.  
  
It was the face that sent Chinese, Japanese, and Caucasian agents shaking in their boots. Narrow fiery eyes, angry clenched teeth, flaming white locks. Many who had seen that face, saw the blade of his long sword or the end of his pistol minutes later. They were not heard from again.  
  
The secretary obviously knew that face, for he began to back away from the prison cell.  
  
"Trying to get official backing, I see," the prisoner sneered, as he accused the man in strong Chinese. "Trying to get recognition from the big bosses, by using my name. Trying to own your small part of the organization, through me."  
  
The man's face began to sweat.  
  
"You might think you know me and my methods. You would be deceiving yourself." He tossed his head. "The fact that I can't remember you that well should tell you something. You haven't been in the organization long enough."  
  
The secretary shakily asked in Japanese, "What makes you say that, sir?"  
  
"Cut the crap." Enishi warned, still in Chinese. "First, you planned to get my cooperation by spreading rumors of new exchanges. Failing that, you tried to force it by going to the police. Still not getting your way, you tried to attack my friend, and dared to do the shock interrogation on me. Unfortunately, things have not gone the way you planned, so you're asking for the documents that you hoped would implicate me for good."  
  
The former mafia boss was cool and confident, and calmly paced the floor as he spoke. "In any case, no matter how you got my cooperation, you, like many of the scum in the organization, would eliminate me the first chance you get. I'm sorry, but I have no plans of leaving Kyoto anytime soon." He ended his analysis with a sinister grin.  
  
"But, sir!" the man stammered. "Wu has been running the branch like crazy! You have to take over again! I'll put you back!"  
  
"One piece of advice," Enishi came close to his secretary, until only inches separated their noses. "Talk for yourself. Don't live under anyone's shadow." He grabbed the man by the collar and hissed down his shirt. "Now, get out of Japan by the next boat, or I will have Shinomori on your case. I warn you, I know the business. I could easily have you locked in for life, and you won't know what got you." With that, he released his iron grip, and dropped the man to the floor.  
  
But the secretary was shaken, not stirred. He stood up, re-arranged his collar, and smoothed out his suit. He stared down at the prisoner in defiance.  
  
"I could have been a great second man for you, boss," he said as he exited. "You ruined it."  
  
"I'll be glad to be rid of you," Enishi retorted in his native language. "You annoy me."  
  
He was alone again.  
  
Himura had promised that he and Misao would be back in three days. It was already the afternoon of the third day.  
  
He did not know what to feel. Over the past week he had been through a whirlwind of emotions. He was happy, yes, that Misao was alive. He was relieved that she would have the documents he sought. Soon he would be cleared of all the false evidence against him. He would once again be in good standing, and his business could only thrive from there. But at what cost?  
  
The short incident with his secretary convinced him that he had not changed enough. He still had a terrible temper, a force to be reckoned with. He still had the power to threaten, the power to control. He had a reputation he could not easily erase, and a history he could not easily ignore. He was not the man for such an honorable young woman as she.  
  
He decided. He would go away quietly, as soon as this mess was over. He would leave Japan. He would finally go to Paris, like he planned at least a month ago. He would start over. He would forget her, for another young woman. Surely there were Japanese women in Paris, too. Women like her.  
  
He would leave her with Shinomori. At any rate, she was ready to marry the man, before he came and changed her mind. He knew her better, she knew him better. Whatever it was that Shinomori had done in his past, surely it was not as terrible as what he had done in his. He had a better right to her.  
  
Speaking of Shinomori, where WAS Shinomori? He was supposed to be coming that afternoon with new information! Maybe he decided to wait for Seta first before coming. Even then, something was holding up both men. What was it?  
  
...............  
  
It had taken most of the trip from Tokyo to Kyoto, to inform Misao and Himura of recent events. It had cooled down Misao's wrath somewhat, but not entirely. She was angered that they told Enishi she was dead. She was appeased that Enishi did speak the truth, that he was in trouble not by his own doing. She was very happy to know that her Aoshi-sama was helping him with the case.  
  
But, what was she to do now? Exactly on whose side was she on now? Aoshi's or Enishi's? Aoshi-sama is the same Aoshi-sama she knew and loved, that was proven well enough. But what about Enishi-san? So it was true he was wronged. What would stop him then from seeking revenge? Should she trust him again?  
  
"You still do not believe me, Misao-san?" Soujirou asked, as he helped her off the train.  
  
"I suppose I do, but I don't know what to do now. What to think, what to feel, what to believe...." she replied absentmindedly.  
  
"That would be easily settled, as soon as we get back, ne, Misao- dono?" Himura reassured.  
  
However, despite everything she thought, she could not shake off an anxious feeling.  
  
Never mind the psycho, the mafia boss, the deceiver, the smuggler, the murderer. Somehow, her, her, friend, her friend of a few months, was in deep trouble.  
  
It has been said that great swordsmen emitted a powerful ki, an aura that other creatures and objects felt. Maybe it was ki that she felt emanating from him, a strong force she always felt when she remembered him, or when she was near him. Himura had something like it, one that a person could trust, one that made people depend on him more. Enishi's was a little different. It engulfed a person, ensured him of his immeasurable power and skill. It assured Misao of his presence.  
  
That force she felt through her, was fading, and fading fast.  
  
In her Aoshi-sama's case, it was a different sensation, one of security in his simply being there, being somewhere in the world, alive for her. It grew a little stronger as she neared Kyoto, thanks to Soujirou's wonderful reports of him. But even this sensation was vanishing at an alarming rate.  
  
"Something wrong with what I said, Misao-san?" Soujirou asked, with a worried look at her anxious jade eyes.  
  
But Misao looked straight ahead of her, and could not reply. Her face had grown deathly pale, and dotted with cold sweat.  
  
"What is the matter, Misao-san?"  
  
Misao suddenly hugged Himura, like a little child afraid of a horrible monster before her. Her whole body was shaking.  
  
"Why, Misao-dono? What is the matter?" Himura asked, as he tried to comfort her.  
  
Her voice shook as she sobbed nervously. "Something...is very wrong...very wrong....Something happened.....to Aoshi-sama.....to Shinichi....I mean, to Enishi-san.....more to Enishi-san...." She looked back and forth at Himura and Seta with pleading eyes. "Please, we have to do something!"  
  
Just then someone shouted through the train station, "The precinct is on fire!"  
  
"We have to hurry," Himura noted. Seta nodded.  
  
...............  
  
It was getting rather stuffy in the prison. The sun had already set, so it was not summer humidity that caused it. He coughed and hacked. Something was decidedly wrong with the air as well.  
  
Smoke. Heavy smoke.  
  
Someone yelled out, "FIRE! FIRE! The precinct is on fire!!" "Sound the alarm!" "Get everyone out!"  
  
He dived to the cold stone floor, and waited his turn, as he watched policemen unlock the cells one by one. No one was allowed the chance to escape; they had the doors of each cell well guarded, and each prisoner was watched as they exited. That did not matter to many-at least each man was alive!  
  
Finally, the guards reached the cell next to his. They turned the key and opened the cell door. The man was soon running for his life out of the building.  
  
By now the smoke was getting sootier and darker and thicker. Flames were seen just outside the doors of the prison. Policemen and remaining prisoners were all coughing, and all shouting, pressuring everyone else to hurry up.  
  
Enishi heard a guard put a key to his door. He was soon on his feet and pushed at the door. "About time, you slowpokes!"  
  
But the door would not budge. It was still locked.  
  
"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? OPEN THIS DOOR!!" he demanded.  
  
The guard tipped his hat, and showed his vicious eyes.  
  
"Sorry, boss, but you know too much already. You have to go."  
  
The former secretary moved on to the next cell, and released the next prisoner.  
  
"I'll be seeing you in the afterlife, sir," he gave a very malicious grin, and ran out of the prison.  
  
Dammit, Enishi punched at the floor. What a way to leave the world. Burnt to a crisp. And no one would miss him, not even his little weasel friend. What he would give right now to get his hands on a pistol, so he could fire at the lock and be out of the inferno. But maybe he could kick it down instead?  
  
He concentrated all his strength on one powerful kick to the door, and managed to free the lock. Maybe he was not doomed to die in a fire after all. He forced the door open, and began crawling his way out. He sweatdropped in spite of himself. He should have done that MUCH earlier.  
  
But most of his remaining energy was spent on that kick. Moreover, he found it hard to breathe. The smoke had lowered to only two feet above the floor, and it made him cough uncontrollably with every other step. He hacked and wheezed his way through the narrow hall of the prison, until he reached the door at its far end. Fortunately it was open. He faltered and crept his way out the door and into the police quarters.  
  
There was no way he would get out of the building in time. Even if he successfully made it past the prison area, there was still a long way out of the floor it was in. He was going to meet his Maker, today.  
  
He stopped crawling altogether, and decided to save his last breaths.  
  
As he lay on his chest on the cement floor, his mind returned to only two events in his life.  
  
A day, when he was a little boy. His sister had just made him a little pinwheel. He recalled her quiet smile as he happily ran through the spring breeze, and watched the pinwheel spin and spin.  
  
And a night, just a few weeks ago. A beautiful young woman in a pink kimono lay at his lap. He slowly undid her hair comb, and watched her black tresses flow down like a waterfall. He stroked the long hair, and dreamed of the day she might be his.  
  
If only for these two events, he was sorry to leave this world.  
  
He closed his eyes, and accepted his fate.  
........  
  
Currently I'm on a reading spree. I can cache now for ff. net. Present objective: Read through the nominated fics over at Nikki's Diary. ^^ That would be a BIG pile of stuff. I haven't read half the stuff that's nominated!!  
  
Iceangel-You've got a whole long answer from me, ne? ^^  
  
Midori-sempai (^_^)-Thanks much for the pic! Aw, so cute! Give my regards to Phoe-chan, I love her RK cat stories!  
  
Chitchat-Thanks much, glad you liked the entries!  
  
Sabbie-Glad you liked the delivery boy, erm, I mean, the flowers!  
  
Devil-Oh, yeah! It's going to get even tougher.  
  
CardMistressSakura-Am writing again, so here's the next chappie.  
  
BittersweetKandy-Tomoe might not be a lot, but Tomoe is TOMOE to Enishi after all. And well, Eni-chan was still bitter and angry at the world, until Kenshin dealt with him for good. Someone should be paying Kenshin exorbitant fees as a psychologist and counselor, you know? ^^ He could turn a person upside down in only one session!! Testimonials from Sano, Aoshi, Sou-chan, Eni-chan....  
  
Firuze-nee-san-You keep reminding me that Aoshi's bad, too. ^^ Misao does know about Aoshi. Kaoru and Yahiko gave it to her completely, around that point where Kenshin was going to train with Hiko. Then she did see what he did to her Jiya. And, yes, I agree that she's very forgiving. She even forgave the Aoshi-sama without going through the whole speech bit. She just treated him normally and nicely again. But it must be remembered that Misao also went through a confusion phase. She called Kaoru and Yahiko liars, she cried her heart out, she took over Aoshi's position. Maybe that's what I'm trying to express at this point. She's still confused. Thanks for the long essay, all the same, it made me think about it. Hope you liked this chappie! Ah, I read the initial A/N of Moonlight. ...I agree about it not being Rakuninmura. HOW could I have been such a dope and forgot about it?! For White and Black's chapter 2 and 3, since I forgot, I figured he hid out in Raku first. Nearer, if he jumped off the boat and swam. ^^  
  
So that's that. Don't flame me yet, White and Black is not done yet. Please wait patiently for the next chapter. Thank you! 


	17. a crucial decision

Hello!  Only a few more chapters and the torture will be over.  ^^     

I got a chance to try out a pair of purple tinted sunglasses. Contrary to my first impression, it isn't hard on the eyes! So now I understand how Eni-chan could possibly wear those violet spectacles all day.  

Back to business.  I found this chappie to be the craziest to write. Work a bit at the middle, then the end, then the beginning, at the end again……..   I switch between Aoshi's first and last names, because Misao and Kenshin use his first name but Enishi would understandably use his last name.  I consistently use Kenshin's surname, because everybody in this story calls him that.    

Dialogue-intensive chapter.  Hold on to your hats, this will be one bumpy ride………… ^^  

………………………………

"Can't this carriage go any faster?!" Misao demanded.  

"It's running as fast as the horses could allow, Misao-san!" Soujirou yelled from the driver's seat, as the carriage rumbled at breakneck speed through the Kyoto thoroughfares.  

"Someday this country's going to make horseless carriages, and they'll be faster, much faster…….," she murmured as she wrung her hands. 

"Calm down, Misao-dono, we're moving as fast as we can," Himura assured her. 

"I CAN'T calm down, Himura! We're talking about Aoshi-sama's life here!" 

"What about………." 

"Enishi-san's too, I know, Enishi-san's too…………now PLEASE HURRY!" 

"I see the Aioya now, Misao-san!" Soujirou called out from the carriage top. "We'll be there in a minute!"

As the younger wanderer predicted, the carriage screeched and neighed to a stop within the next sixty seconds. The passengers immediately descended. 

They were rather surprised by the unnatural stillness of the building. Misao knew there were no customers at that hour, but this silence was ridiculous………..and suspicious.  

"Jiya! Omasu!" Misao called out. "Where is everybody?!" 

They found only one person in the whole Aioya. The okashira was in one of the interior rooms. 

Lying face down on the wooden floor.  

She made a rapid inspection of the okashira's person. She quickly found a small dart imbedded in his right arm. The kind she knew came from a narrow blowpipe, and shot at close range.  

"Poison dart? People still use this kind of thing?!" Misao noted with repugnance. Still, she knew how to handle it.  "Soujirou-san, medicine cabinet, in the kitchen, third bottle from the second rack. Hurry! Himura, if you don't mind, keep an eye on Aoshi-sama's face. I'll get this thing out." 

Both men did as the okashira-of-a-few-months ordered. With careful and deft hands, the ninja cautiously drew out the dart from his arm, ensuring that the poison spread no further on him or on her.  

"Himura, did he change in appearance?"  

When the redhead shook his head with a smile, she sighed with much relief, wrapped up the dart in a piece of paper, and hid it in a spare box for checking later. Soujirou came back in the nick of time with the antidote.  Himura turned him over. She then put the antidote to the okashira's lips and made him drink the contents of the whole bottle. 

"Arigatou," he said simply afterward. He sat up weakly and greeted, "Welcome home."  

She was the capable ninja no longer. She was his little girl Misao. Her arms flew to his neck in a warm and teary embrace.  "I've missed you, Aoshi-sama! I'm sorry for everything I did for the last few months! I didn't understand……….I'm so sorry I ran off………I'm so sorry!"  

"Part of the fault was mine," he ruffled the top of her head.  He looked up at Himura. "Thank you for taking care of her." 

"It was nothing," Himura quietly smiled at him.  

Then Misao became official again.  "Who did this, Aoshi-sama? And where is everyone else?"  

"One of the lower-ranked officers came by and said the chief needed Jiya and the rest for a mission. As he knew I was otherwise occupied, he said I was not needed. Unfortunately, I was not the one who answered the door.  I was aware of a man at the window, but he was too fast with the dart for me to do anything." 

"And the officer? Description, Aoshi-sama!" 

"They said he was small, very neat, shifty eyes, well-slicked hair……..." 

"It's him, Himura," Misao looked at the rurouni. He nodded understanding.  "That would mean…………"  

Her fears for her other friend came back, with a menacing vengeance.   

"Aa. Most of the documents we gathered point to that man, who is also Yukishiro's secretary," Aoshi further explained.  To this Soujirou nodded.  "He went in the direction of the precinct." 

"And now the precinct is on fire!!" Misao told him. 

"He is planning arson," the okashira analyzed, and Himura agreed. "To eliminate incriminating evidence in the building, as well as-----"

"-------kill off Shinichi!"  she ended the sentence with shaking hands.

"Call him by his name, Misao," he finished with a frown, then added with a slight understanding smile,  "I do not mind. Hurry, if you still want to save Yukishiro. He does not deserve to go like Shishio did." 

Misao suddenly beamed with hope……….then remembered. "Are………..you sure, Aoshi-sama?" she asked uneasily. 

He nodded, and waved her off.  

She gave him another tight hug from the waist. "Thank you very much. I love you, Aoshi-sama!"

He merely returned a sorrowfully straight face.    

She gestured to her two escorts, and they went on their way.     

They reached the precinct five minutes later, running from the Aioya at the speed of light.  They found it covered on two points by fire brigades, two long lines of police and civilians passing buckets.  Everything else was in chaos. Policemen were shouting at prisoners, as they were hauled into waiting carriages. Nurses and doctors were all rushing to and fro, attending to the burnt and the wounded sprawled around the gardens. Nosy civilians and other busybodies were scattered and added to the confusion.   

"Yukishiro Enishi! Shiroyuki Shinichi! Whatever his name is! Where is he?" Misao begged of the officers. 

"White hair! Tall, rather muscular! Have you seen him?" Himura helped her inquire.  

No police officer had seen him.  

"Perhaps he is still inside?" Seta asked.  Misao paled. 

"All the prisoners have been let out,  Makimachi-san," a kindly officer informed her.  

"So how come no had seen him?"  

Suddenly her ninja-trained eyes spotted someone hauntingly familiar, ducking and avoiding notice among the crowd.  From Enishi's factory………..from Tokyo…………from that horrifying ordeal……….

"Himura! Behind you!!" Misao pointed at a small, well-buttoned police officer.   

With shock, the man recognized her as well, and ran for it.  But Himura's quick eyes and quick reflexes were faster. In less than 10 seconds, Himura had pulled the man to the ground and forced his arms to his back.  

"Start talking!" Misao furiously took off the hat and grabbed the man's well-oiled hair. "What did you do to Enishi-san?"  

"Why should I give information to you ? You're just the boss' woman!" the man defiantly declared. 

Misao gave him a hard slap. "I am NOT his woman! How DARE you call me that!" She finally recognized him fully, and gave him another slap. "You're nothing but his useless secretary! Now where is he?!"  

"Let's just say, the key didn't work on his door," the secretary sneered at the ninja.  

Misao screamed and put her hands on the man's neck. Soujirou immediately sped inside the building into the smoke and flames.  

"Stop, Misao-dono!" Himura sternly ordered. "He is more useful to us alive." 

In between Misao's hands and under Himura's knee on his back, he gave a hoarse and strained answer. "Why should I be afraid of you? The boss is going to die, either right here or by the noose. And I am going to inherit his business! I'm going to be rich!"

"What makes you so sure, you arrogant ferret of a man?" Misao was fuming.  

"I MADE sure, little missy!"   

"And you actually think you could get the better of Yukishiro Enishi?"  Himura harshly inquired, and tightened his grip on his hands.  "I may not have agreed with his way of life, but you are surely underestimating his intelligence!"  

"The man is too smart to notice he's been taken for a fool!" the man retorted.  Misao gave him another terrible slap.  

"Tasukete kudasai! Help, please!" someone yelled from the smoky front door of the precinct building.  Misao looked behind her, and saw Soujirou struggling with something, as he dragged it from one end out of the building.  Two policemen rushed to the young man and relieved him of his load. He gratefully sat on the grass and coughed out the smoke. 

One policeman carried the burden from each end, and lay it on the ground near Himura. It was rather long………and it wore shoes.   

"Himura-san!" one of them called out. "White hair, tall and rather muscular, you said?" Himura nodded calmly.  

The officer waved a melancholy hand at their dead weight.  

Himura could not believe his eyes, Misao could only stare blankly. "Masaka……….it's not true………."  

But it was he. Somewhat weaker, somewhat thinner. The proud eyes were now sunken and shut. The full cheeks now showed the bone underneath. The haughty mouth was dry and parched.  The snowy hair was tainted with soot and very matted.  

"Chotto matte," Soujirou interrupted the tears forming in Misao's eyes.  His hands went to the man's wrist and neck. He aligned his ears to his nose and chest.  "A while ago he was still mumbling.  He is still alive, but somebody or something has to get him breathing again, or we lose him for good."  

"Do something, Soujirou-san!!" Misao begged, hands to his white undershirt. 

"Unfortunately, Misao-dono, assassins are trained differently from ninjas," Himura sadly explained. "We were taught to assess life, so we can ensure death. We know nothing more." 

Misao looked in desperation at the lifeless figure before her, and racked her brain.  

"I remember now……." She quietly told Himura and Seta.  "Something Aoshi-sama taught me a few years back……..you align your mouth………….breathe into the victim…………..a life-saving technique…………just in case………." 

"Do it, Misao-dono." 

"ME?!" 

"There is no one else, Misao-dono. Do it. Waste no time." 

"But…….but……." 

"Misao-dono. Now is not the time to think about what is past. If it is in your power to save his life, do it."  

"The little miss can't do it," the little man under Himura sneered. "Why don't you just admit you used him for your own purposes? How different are you from me, eh? You're only his woman!" 

Misao readied a right fist. 

"What? So now you'll try to save a known criminal's life?" the man provoked again.  "Isn't he better off dead?" 

The readied fist loosened slightly. She looked in consternation at her accuser, Himura, Soujirou, and the still figure beside her.       

"Hayaku, Misao-san!" Soujirou snapped her back. "His pulse is fading!"  

_I see you remember me now, Makimachi.  _

She remembered his arrogant stance, his proud bearing………his sad eyes.  He said it, that first day they met again in Kyoto.    

_I understand that you have a right and a reason to fear me. _

Fear was not the word for it. She was terrified of him then.  

_But I will make you understand, Makimachi. _

She now understood. He made her understand. 

_You have nothing to fear.  _

She had nothing to fear.  

She assumed the bearing of the professional Oniwabanshuu ninja, and went to work. 

Tilt head back………….raise chin………..pull chin back and open mouth…………..pinch nose………..inhale deeply…………….blow……….one, two……………watch chest rise…………..inhale deeply………….blow…………..one, two………..inhale…………….blow………………

"It's not working, Misao-san," Soujirou said anxiously.

"Let us be patient, Soujirou-dono," Himura replied. 

Even Misao was getting worried. Still she kept on.  "Come on, you have to help me!" she pleaded with her unresponsive patient.   

Inhale deeply………….blow…………….one, two…………...watch chest rise……………inhale…………blow……………one, two……………inhale…………..blow……………

Inhale…………

Blow………….

"Please, Kami-sama, I beg you," she prayed. "Give him another chance!" 

Inhale………..

Blow…………

"You gave Aoshi-sama another chance. You let Himura talk sense to him. Do the same with this……….my friend……and more……..no matter what it is he has done.  He wants to change, you know he has changed. Please, give him another chance!"  

Inhale deeply…………

One last time…………

"Let me show him what love truly means, Kami-sama. I ask only that."  

Blow…………………!

A slight quiver.  

A weak cough. 

A stronger one.   A succession of coughs.  

"Oh, thank you, Kami-sama!" and Misao tearfully flew into Himura's arms.  

She faced the traitor again, with flaming eyes. "No, I am not Enishi's woman. I am more than that. I am his friend, and he is mine.  More than that, in a way different from Aoshi-sama, I love him. Before you ever get to touch him again, you will have to go through me." 

"That is very good to hear, weasel." 

Seta had propped him up, and he weakly smirked at her with mischievous eyes. 

Misao smiled back, tears still streaming down her face, and held out her right fist. "Call me weasel again, and I will personally see you to the afterlife." 

Much of the fire had been quelled by then, and more policemen surrounded the scene. 

"My good sirs, arrest this man," Himura ordered, with the power of one used to authorities, and pointed to the man below him. 

"On what grounds?"

"Falsification of documents, influencing witnesses, arson, and attempted murder," Enishi recited. 

"For a man just from the brink of death, you're good," Misao commended with a sweatdrop.    

"It will all be proven in court, in a few days," Soujirou continued with a happy smile. "We are finally ready with the evidence." 

As the man was tied up and escorted to the police carriage, he looked behind him and called out, "How sure are you, boss, that you'll win?" 

"Simple, you imbecile," the boss countered, right hand in hers. "Now, I have friends."   

………………………….

I am not through yet. I haven't answered the ultimate question yet.  Sorry for the delay.  I had no internet last week.  

Chotto matte—Wait a bit

Hayaku—Hurry

That was only mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. The full CPR thing is done when the victim isn't breathing and has no pulse.  I learned that on Gameplan!   ^^V   I'm not dead sure of my procedures as given here, but I did get it from a book, and out of the cobwebs of old first aid demonstrations.   I figure people like Misao were taught such things back then, even basic versions of it.  

I enjoyed watching Bridget Jones's Diary (the movie)—and casting Misao as Renee, Eni-chan as Hugh Grant, and Aoshi as Colin Firth.   ^^   

Thanks to Nia and Ayako for putting me in their faves lists! 

Sabbie—Writer's block, aye?  Read another book, watch more RK for a while! ^^   Don't panic. Nice things come out of writer's blocks.  White and Black came out of a Nine Months writer's block!! 

Tesuka-chan—Ending? (looks around……..and nods.)  But I don't make a habit of being a hitokiri as a writer.  ^^  Thanks for understanding Misao's problem.  Thanks about the nomination, same to you!  I liked that last chappie of Mission: Frustration!  

Devil—Thanks for understanding the predicament Misao is in! 

Dallisse—Like I said, I'm not a hitokiri as a writer.   ^^   Thanks much! 

Iceangel—Hello kabayan! Firuze-nee-san is really very nice.  ^^  Don't worry about coming to her for help. You can also try reading her fics. Midori's gives you a look on his emotional state,  Firuze's give you a nice idea of the world around him. I'll wait expectantly for When Memory Fails, and This is Me of course! 

CardMistressSakura—Yes, I'll write more.  You'll have to wait for a while more to find out.   

Mi—Long time no see! Thanks much! Yup, I have HUGE crush on the snowhead already from writing White and Black!  Brain to match brawn, incredibly good looks, eligible bachelor, rich too—what more could you ask?  ^^   

Tiian—Believe me, I've heard it from Firuze-nee-san too!  ^^  Don't' worry, she's just confused.  No problem, I'm glad you got to review now! 

Chitchat—Thanks much.  I hope your questions are answered by this chappie?  

BittersweetKandy—You're answered as well.  Hope you like the chapter! 

Firuze-nee-san—Thanks for understanding and for clarifying.  Good luck with the house!  I tried to make it sound that Misao didn't forget a lot, just the most recent happenings, that's why I made her ask where's Aoshi-sama, Okon, Jiya, Omasu a few chapters back.  I meant to say she still remembered everything from that far off in her memory.   ^^  Sorry.    Fanfic of the YEAR?! Are you serious, nee-san?!  With Midori and Chiki as competition, are you serious?! Um, thanks for the support! 

Thanks for reading, and I hope you come back! 


	18. a small demonstration

Hello. This chappie got started a while ago, even before the chapter before it. I wanted to know how I would really end this thing. So I figured, it would be better if I thought it out while writing it down. "Alias" is pretty good inspiration, by the way.  
  
This is probably the longest chapter in all of White and Black. Sorry for the long read. ^^  
  
............  
  
The trial that ensured was completed without much fanfare and without much delay. With all the evidence available, it was a straightforward case. The man, familiar with the former boss' documents, copied his documents and filled them with new data, then told police they were from the boss' own hand. Faced with real documents from his old files, and the boss' unique sealing ring, it was obvious that Enishi was framed. The man was sent to the main penitentiary in Tokyo.  
  
Himura bade farewell to his friends in Kyoto soon after, and returned to his wife and son. He, of course, paid his respects to Tomoe's grave before he left, and chatted with his brother-in-law. He would accept no token of gratitude from him, other than a promise to take care of himself.  
  
However, the presentation of even the most basic of Enishi's old documents alerted some of the highest ranked officials to a large, and international, syndicate. The government could not simply turn its eyes away on such a problem. They had to deal with it, even if only its Japanese branch. Here was one of the syndicate's former top officials, virtually turning himself in, after two years of their careful but fruitless surveillance. On the other hand, the metalworks factory was currently one of Kyoto's larger sources of revenue. To suddenly shut it down would not be good for the city. It was quite a predicament for the Kyoto police, what to do with their best businessman, but also their best catch.  
  
Misao was in a predicament of her own.  
  
"Misao, it has come to my attention that I had not shown my gratitude to you adequately," Enishi mentioned. She had visited him in his office, a few days after the trials ended.  
  
"Come on, haven't you thanked me enough already?" she asked, as she stood by the window facing the street.  
  
He slowly walked nearer and nearer to where she stood. "Thank you for letting me in your life." He stood beside her. "Thank you for showing me your heart." He raised her to the windowsill, until their eyes were level. "Thank you for teaching me how to smile, and how to laugh." He put a hand on her waist. "Thank you for making me see another woman." He caressed her cheek. "Thank you for trusting me." He drew his eyes closer to her. "Thank you for believing me."  
  
He drew her close, and he took her into a long and loving kiss. This time, she relished every millisecond, feeling his arms around her and his breath in her. It was full of his power, his control, as well as his new tenderness and understanding.  
  
When his lips parted from hers, she did not have a clear idea of what hit her. It took her breath away.  
  
"Thank you for giving me back my life."  
  
She blinked at him and stared at his fathomless blue-gray eyes. "Well, now, that's more than adequate."  
  
Neither had noticed a dark figure watching them intently from the street. He took a deep breath of defeat, and walked in the direction of the main temple. The okashira.  
  
He begged to be excused from dinner that evening, so as not to see her across him.  
  
"Please, Aoshi-sama, why are you ignoring me?" Misao asked a few days later at the Shirobeko. She had to practically force the okashira to come with her there for some of Sae's hotpot and some rational conversation.  
  
"Don't you want to be with Yukishiro instead?" he asked, a barely perceptible bitterness in his voice.  
  
She wrapped her arms around him and cooed. "I want to be with you, Aoshi- sama..."  
  
"Like you would want to be with a father, or a brother."  
  
"But you've been my father and my brother for such a long time, Aoshi- sama!"  
  
She suddenly had a very womanly, very mature air about her, as she looked into his eyes. From his surprised face, one could see that he had noticed.  
  
"Aoshi." She said with resolve. "I want to be with you. With YOU."  
  
"But Yukishiro..."  
  
"I have only been waiting for you. While waiting for you, I made him my friend."  
  
"More than your friend."  
  
"So be it. But he is not my Aoshi."  
  
She suddenly found her lips locked in his. Her hands desperately sought the tatami mat, but his arms were on her back, and he raised her far off where she sat. She decided not to fight it. Everything was so right, so perfectly right, so wonderfully right...that somehow it was wrong.  
  
"What....are you doing....Aoshi?" she breathlessly asked at the end.  
  
"Something I should have done much earlier," he replied.  
  
Misao heard the crash of breaking porcelain. She looked behind her, and saw the fragments of a teacup near the booth opposite theirs.  
  
And in the booth, Enishi.  
  
"Sae-san, I apologize for breaking the cup," He cocked his glasses over his nose. "I will pay for it, along with the bill. Send it over to the house tomorrow morning. Thank you for the meal. I must be going." He stood up without a second glance and exited the restaurant.  
  
...............  
  
A month came and went.  
  
A month of emotional and psychological torture.  
  
"This is CRAZY!!" Misao complained to the birds in the forest. "I hate being so lonely!" she griped as she kicked the trees.  
  
"Aoshi-sama is avoiding me. Enishi-san is avoiding me. I can't talk to Okina or the girls about it. I have no one to talk to!!" She screamed the last sentence, until three sparrows flew out of an overhead nest.  
  
Indeed, both the businessman and the Oniwabanshuu okashira took all pains not to be with the ninja. His apologies, but Aoshi-sama had a mission to attend to, and could not come until after dinner. Enishi-san was sorry, but he had clients to meet. And both would not tell her directly. Aoshi sent word by Okina. Enishi sent a messenger.  
  
"It's not my fault! I'm sure it's not my fault!" she argued to a nearby rabbit. "I love them both. I'd die first before I see either of them in trouble. I've tried to be nice. So why are they avoiding me?!"  
  
"They do not know what to do next, Misao-san," the rabbit suddenly replied.  
  
Now Misao knew enough about rabbits and the forest not to be deceived. She looked around her and up at the branches. She eventually found the blue bird she sought. "So you're still in Kyoto, wandering smiley?"  
  
"Hai." The blue bird dropped down beside Misao and grinned.  
  
"You were saying?"  
  
"Misao-san, I do not assume to know much about love and all that," he began, as he brushed off the leaves in his hair. "But as a man, I could guess that they're thinking about their next move. They need time to do that."  
  
She scratched her head.  
  
"Allow me to explain."  
  
He went on his hands and knees for a few seconds, then sat cross-legged before her. He offered the grass beside him to her. She also sat cross- legged, then remembered she sat beside a young man, and changed her position to the half-kneel. Satisfied, the young wanderer beamed and started the demonstration.  
  
"I have here three pebbles, see?" He lay down a small round green stone. "This is you." He placed a large black pebble a few inches away to the right from the green stone. "This is Shinomori-san." To the left of the green stone, at roughly the same distance, he placed a white stone. "And this is Yukishiro-san." The three stones were now in a row, with the green stone in the middle. Misao nodded understanding.  
  
"This is the situation right now, a perfect, if unsure, balance between all of you," Soujirou explained. "Shinomori has no bad feelings for Yukishiro, and vice-versa. However, they would rather keep this precise distance between each other. Because each knows that the other is a rival."  
  
"They shouldn't be rivals! They're both my dear friends!" Misao protested.  
  
"It is hard to explain, Misao-san, but that's the way with men. They prefer it when they have exclusive rights to a woman."  
  
Soujirou moved the white stone closer to the green stone. "Now, if Yukishiro-san, for example, were to make a move," he moved the black stone farther, "Shinomori-san would move away politely, and leave you with him. But," and he moved the green stone again, to restore the first even position, "you would notice, and try to win back Shinomori, losing Yukishiro in the process. Do you understand so far?"  
  
Misao nodded slowly.  
  
"However," and this time he moved the white stone farther away from the even position, "should Yukishiro move farther away from you," he moved the black stone nearer, "Shinomori would eventually notice, and get closer to you. Again, you would be worried, and try to win Yukishiro back, but lose Shinomori." He placed the stones again in the even position.  
  
"Therefore, both Shinomori-san and Yukishiro-san are at a stalemate. They do not want to be farther from you than they are now. But each realizes your importance to the other, and out of courtesy do not want to be nearer to you either. And that, Misao-san, is the situation."  
  
"Can't I be with you for a while, and spite them both?" Misao grinned mischievously.  
  
Soujirou waved his hands in front of him and smiled sheepishly. "No, thank you, Misao-san. Love is a dangerous game to play, so I won't."  
  
"Just kidding." She gave him a quick peck at the cheek. "Thanks for explaining all of that. But what do I do now?"  
  
"Choose."  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Choose, Misao-san. Once and for all."  
  
..............  
  
Somewhere in the middle of Kyoto, Enishi walked to the middle of a pedestrian bridge. He stopped between two lampposts, leaned on the railing, and admired the changing hues of the setting sun. His tousled hair and silk jacket moved with the slight breeze.  
  
Soon he heard the distinct footsteps of the okashira stop beside him. He took out his tinted glasses from a pocket, and positioned them over his eyes with an elegant twist of his fingers. He did not change his position for the newcomer. He continued to look down on the ripples of the river flowing under the bridge.  
  
"You wanted to see me, Shinomori?"  
  
"Aa." The okashira leaned his back on the railing beside Enishi, and folded his arms over his dark uniform.  
  
Five minutes of silence. Enishi enjoyed the perfect sunset without interruption. If only it did not remind him of the setting of his chances with Misao....  
  
The sky darkened into a deep red. The lamplighter came by and lighted the lampposts between the two men. Still they had not spoken a word.  
  
Finally, the white-haired man broke the silence.  
  
"Is it true, Shinomori?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Your idea, I suppose. Admit it, you want to get rid of me."  
  
"It was not my idea. You have my word."  
  
"Pardieu...." he muttered under his breath.  
  
He watched the stars appear and the moon rise from beyond the hills.  
  
"She taught me to smile again, that weasel..."  
  
"Aa."  
  
"She saw beyond what I thought I was...."  
  
"Aa."  
  
He continued with a sad voice, still looking down at the dark water below him. "Shinomori, I have an idea of what you feel about her. I respect that. I even think that Misao would be better off with you than with me. But, Shinomori, it does not change the fact that...I love her. Be the situation as it is, I still want to tell her that. But with everything that you have done for her, and with everything you have done for me, I could not propose to her without your approval, or at least your permission."  
  
The okashira listened in silence.  
  
"If you will not allow me, I will not force the issue. I will not propose. I will leave her with you." And the businessman hid his face in his arms, trying vaguely to hide his consternation and defeat.  
  
"A proposition, Yukishiro," Shinomori eventually said.  
  
Enishi looked up at the man with some surprise.  
  
"We both tell her."  
  
"Then?"  
  
"She shall decide what to do."  
  
Another five minutes of silence, as both contemplated the agreement.  
  
"I have one request," Enishi spoke.  
  
"Go on."  
  
"Whatever she decides, I ask for the option to continue to be her associate, her companion, her ally--"  
  
"-Her friend, yes?"  
  
"Yes." Enishi presented his right hand to him. "A handshake is all I ask to seal the oral contract."  
  
Shinomori took the hand into his own. "Agreed."  
  
"Merci beaucoup."  
  
"Now, we must plan. How to tell her."  
  
..............  
  
A week passed.  
  
The poor ninja received the coldest receptions then. If she waved happily at Enishi in the market, he would merely and absolutely ignore it, continuing on his way. If she tried to hug Aoshi in the carefree way she used, the okashira would silently wrench himself free from it, and walk to the next room.  
  
"AAAAARGH! Men! They're annoying! VERY annoying!!" she complained to the air in her room.  
  
At any rate, she would not let them get her down for a long time. She ransacked the closets and drawers, and tried to play at dress-up for a few hours, to get her spirits up.  
  
She found one of Okon's prettier everyday kimonos, dark blue with cherry blossoms flying near the hems and the sleeves. She took out Omasu's nicest obi, a white silk one, and admired its effect with a violet tying ribbon. She saw a nice long piece of purple silk lying around, and with it she tied up her hair high on her head, similar to Kaoru's usual hairdo. But she did not like the effect of the ponytail. She wound up the loose hair around the ribbon, and kept it in place with a hair comb from Enishi. Finally, she took out a pair of wooden sandals, barely used, a birthday gift from her Aoshi-sama.  
  
"Misao-chan, a messenger is downstairs to see you!" Omasu called out from the bottom of the stairs.  
  
"Tell him I'm coming," she replied.  
  
One of those annoying messenger boys again, she griped. She could come down to them in any way she looked, they would not bother with her. Thus, after applying a little lipstick and some color to her cheeks, she hobbled down the stairs, without bothering to look at herself in a mirror. She figured she would give the messenger boy a laugh for his pains.  
  
She opened the main door, and was rather surprised to see Soujirou behind it.  
  
"Soujirou-san!" she greeted.  
  
"Kirei..." The young wanderer muttered with ogling eyes. Indeed, she was pretty.  
  
"Really, Soujirou-san?" she grinned, thinking he was playing along. "Do you know of a nearby traveling circus? I need work as a clown...."  
  
"You look just perfect, Misao-san," he mumbled as he gawked at her. Then he shook his head furiously, as if to set it in order. "Aiyaya, I have a message for you. You are to come with me to the edge of town, right now if possible."  
  
"But I can't go to the edge of town looking like this!" she protested.  
  
"On the contrary, you look fine. I am not kidding, Misao-san. We can go right now."  
  
"But why are we going to the edge of town?"  
  
Soujirou gave one of his cheeriest smiles. "I am not allowed to say." He took her right hand, and dropped two pebbles into it. "Although, Misao- san, now would be a very good time to think about our conversation last week."  
  
Misao looked at her right hand, and saw the two stones from his demonstration. White, and black.  
  
She twirled the stones in her hand, as she walked beside her handsome messenger.  
  
He led her to a little hill at the edge of town. Misao had been there several times. She had watched a few glorious sunsets from that hill, and seen the bright lights of Kyoto during festivals. It was one of her favorite places......and both men knew that.  
  
Normally she took the liberty of lying on the grass, head on her hands, feet flapping in the air, the cool mountain breeze through her face and hair. Now, there was a picnic mat waiting for her. Soujirou helped her to sit on the mat, in the elegant position Okon's kimono forced on her.  
  
From behind the trees, she saw the dark uniform of her beloved okashira, and the elegant Chinese suit of her best friend.  
  
Much like their messenger, the blue kimono and the upraised hair stopped both dead in their tracks. She saw the okashira bow his head, and the businessman take out his dark spectacles. "I can't do this," she heard the snowy-haired man complain. The okashira just walked forward resolutely, and motioned for him to follow.  
  
Even the ordeal with that shifty little ferret of a man did not leave her as speechless and petrified as this meeting. Both of them, together, to talk to her?! While she had indeed waited for the chance that these two men would be friends, something about them did not seem right.  
  
There was a confrontation that was not being said, a polite duel that was silently being waged.  
  
"What is the meaning of this, Soujirou-san?!" she begged to be told.  
  
"I do not know everything, either, Misao-san," he replied. "But you will be asked to decide in the end. Listen to them well, and think things over carefully. Once you have made up your mind, decide without hesitation, and make yourself clear. That is all the help I can give you."  
  
He took her right hand, and gave it a final gentlemanly kiss. "Best of luck." He then walked away, to the bottom of the hill.  
  
Jade looked up at turquoise and ice, with eyes full of dread.  
............  
  
If you're confused, so am I. And I'm the writer. It's not a good thing. ^^ Ah, the trouble White and Black got me into.  
  
Anyways, replies, replies:  
  
Dallisse-Thanks! Of course I can't kill the guy! ^^ Hope you liked what you got! Thanks for placing me in your faves list!  
  
JML-I'm still asking, why didn't you become a doctor?! ^^ Maybe you plan to be like Michael Crichton instead?  
  
Sabbie-Yeah, ff.net can be annoying. It's getting glitches again? Really? Eni and Mi are balanced? Thanks! Even I didn't notice! But then Misao is not the kind of girl you can subdue for a long time, right?  
  
Chitchat-Thanks for liking last chappie!  
  
CardMistressSakura-Don't die on me yet..you'll get your answer soon. ^-^  
  
Mi-Arigatou. Yeah, but what actual human in the world is like Enishi?!  
  
Devil-Not a lot of troubles left, just the MAJOR problem, as you can see from this chapter.  
  
Iceangel-Yup, I'm watching Rave everyday, then RK afterward of course. I'm actually glad that I could watch Haru without thinking he's an Enishi clone- except in those times he goes "My nee-chan said....I'll fight for what I and nee-chan believe..." And I like Musica, too! Maybe not as much as you, but I like his spunk.  
  
Tiian-Yay, you got to review! Yeah, I know what you mean about describing emotions and such, and that's my weak point. I hate it in novels when things go overboard with descriptions. I have a tendency to go "Some more action, please! More talking! More movement!" Thus, I skip reading descriptions sometimes, to the detriment of my writing. ^^  
  
Firuze-nee-san-Just a few more chapters, and you'll see. ^^ No, no one dies. Sorry for the torture. You believe in me too much, nee-san, arigatou!  
  
Bee-Hi, nice to see ya! Thanks for liking it so far! I'm glad you liked seeing things our way!  
  
Everybody accounted for? Jolly good. You will all have your answer next chapter. ^^ 


	19. a final choice

Support both the Nikki Diary awards and the RKRC! I've been to both places, and they don't overlap for the most part. I'm so relieved to know that, actually. ^^ Man, lots of reading to do...  
  
This is the chapter that will make people mad at me, most likely. If you're one of them, please be merciful in the reviews, and please be so kind as to also read the final chapter, after this one. I also have an epilogue planned, just one extra chapter after the story ends.  
  
Disclaimer: Aoshi ain't mine. Enishi ain't mine. Misao ain't mine. White and Black IS mine. And the final decision I make here IS mine. Part of my reason will be explained in the chapter, and the rest explained at the final author notes at the end. At any rate, this is fanfiction, and shouldn't be taken way too seriously.  
  
All that said, let us all put ourselves out of our misery and get it over with.  
  
............  
  
Misao shook in trepidation as the two men presented themselves before her. Controlled ki emanated strongly from both swordsmen, somehow discreetly fighting for supremacy.  
  
As a little girl she dreamed of what it would be like to be a princess of the royal court, and have men kneeling before her, awaiting her smallest command. Back then her elderly friends had humored her and became her warriors and retainers.  
  
Now that two princes were actually standing before this little princess of the blue kimono and rouge cheeks, she was quivering in her socks. She had never seen them this grave before. It felt like the fate of two powerful nations rested in which prince she accepted.  
  
The snow prince, bedecked in his white Chinese suit, bowed before the princess, and began to speak.  
  
"I have to leave the country for a while, Makimachi."  
  
Makimachi?! It must be a mistake. She smiled uneasily. "What's wrong with that? You've wanted to travel for some time, ne?"  
  
"Makimachi, I am being commissioned by the government, to be an agent."  
  
"A-agent?" She was a little surprised, but, as an Oniwabanshuu ninja, not much. "I still say what's wrong with that? I go undercover for a living, right? What's so different?"  
  
He turned his back to her. "Makimachi. Your world is different from mine. The government conspiracies, the political maneuverings that your organization sees, is only the surface of my world. I am being commissioned to go back to it, go back to Shanghai, help China and Japan stop the triad."  
  
"If you refuse?" She earnestly hoped he would.  
  
"Permanent exile. That would not have been so bad, a year ago....but not now."  
  
"Let me go with you! I can help, can't I?"  
  
"Rather impossible," the okashira interrupted at this point. "Kyoto operatives would know that you are an Oniwabanshuu ninja. For you to be seen with him would make them suspicious of what he is doing."  
  
"If you choose to help me," the businessman continued, "you would have to......severe your ties with the Oni."  
  
"Only one, or the other, Misao."  
  
The prince with the ice-blue eyes worded the ultimatum.  
  
Misao looked down at the stones in her hand, and twirled them again. Before the afternoon was over, she had to throw one of them away.  
  
"Look, gentlemen," she entreated, "Maybe I could act as a go-between? I know how to use disguises, I can be the messenger between the both of you..."  
  
Enishi lowered his head, and chuckled bitterly. "You are trying to be on the safe side, Makimachi. You want to be with me, but still you do not want to lose Shinomori." He shook his head. "No, my dear Makimachi. It cannot work that way. Do not leave us any more in suspense. Do not disappoint us any more by your ambiguity. One, or the other. Choose."  
  
"If you decide to stay in Kyoto, you will have to deny for the most part your knowledge of Yukishiro, for both his and your safety," Aoshi warned her. "You will merely live the life you have always lived, a boring one confined to this city. You will not have the chance to travel outside of Japan, and see the world beyond our shores."  
  
"If you choose to go with me," Enishi cautioned in turn, "you will not be able to sleep at night in peace. Every minute you are alive is a new risk. You are in danger of being killed, injured, even raped. It will be one or two years before you get to see Japan again. Most importantly, you would have to assume a new identity. You cannot contact Shinomori, if you want to stay alive and if you want to see this case completed."  
  
Then silence.  
  
The men stood with their backs to each other, apart by only a few feet, and waited for her answer.  
  
Cold sweat beaded at Misao's forehead. This was the point of no return.  
  
Both men were most gentlemanly to her. Both would give up their lives for her. Both had their secrets and their past mistakes, but both had tried to live beyond them to something better.  
  
She had enjoyed their company, in different ways. She had admired their endearing qualities, in different ways. She had loved them truly, in different ways.  
  
The question was not who she loved more. Rather, who did she love enough, to sacrifice everything else?  
  
Should she give her heart completely to the man she had given her life and love for the longest time? Or, should she give it to the man who gave her a new reason to live?  
  
Soujirou's words came back to haunt her. Choose, once and for all.  
  
She probed deep in her memory, for everything she recalled about both men. The hard times and the good times. The horrible remembrances and the wonderful dreams. The days long gone, and the days recently past.  
  
She took a deep breath, and gave the two stones a final look.  
  
She chose.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
White.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
"Think about this very carefully, Misao!" the victor panicked. "You know the consequences! Think, Misao! Think again!"  
  
"I have decided," she declared resolutely.  
  
"You don't understand! You can't undo this! If you choose me, you will lose Shinomori! I know what he is to you! Do not do this, Misao!"  
  
She smiled such a womanly smile, that neither man had seen before. "I have decided."  
  
"You do not understand, you do not understand!" he kneeled beside her. "Aside from the obvious situation, there is one thing more. Shinomori and I made an agreement. Only the one you choose will propose. I.....have to marry you, Misao."  
  
Her jaw dropped.  
  
He stammered and faltered. "I would like to marry you, of course. However, I also know that you want to marry HIM. Now, considering that, and considering the situation I am in, PLEASE think it over well. I will not consider that your final answer yet, so please think about your choice."  
  
"Enough, Yukishiro." The okashira put a hand to the man's shoulder.  
  
Yukishiro attacked. "Are you surrendering without a fight? Don't you understand what I'm trying to do? I am desperately trying to give her back to you, and you have no intentions of taking it?"  
  
"What is the use?" he weakly countered.  
  
"DON'T YOU LOVE HER, Shinomori?!"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"Aren't you going to defend yourself, then? Tell her I'm not worthy of her! Tell her I'll only ruin her life! I used to be a smuggler, for goodness sakes, and I'm being asked to be a smuggler again. Tell her to stay with you."  
  
"Please....stop.....Enishi....stop it." Tears flowed down her face, and formed lines through the rouge in her cheeks. She hid her eyes from both of them, and wept quietly.  
  
She quietly walked to where the okashira stood, and took both of his hands in hers.  
  
"Aoshi-sama. Listen to me. You will always, always have a special place in my heart. I will always want to be with you. But.....but......I....I....can't....I can't......live with you forever....." She buried her face in his warm uniform and wept sorrowfully. "I am very sorry....Aoshi......but I can't......" She brushed a few tears away from her eyes. "It's not because of you. Kami-sama knows, I have forgiven you long ago for your faults. You have been nothing but loving to me. Aoshi, I am doing this because of me."  
  
The okashira's face betrayed a hundred of the thousand questions he had.  
  
"I want to know who I am, as myself. Do not get me wrong. I am a better person for what you have all taught me. But I am always living under someone else's shadow. I want to stay in my own sunlight for a change."  
  
He nodded slowly, and kissed her tenderly to one cheek.  
  
She carefully released herself after a few minutes, then faced the other man.  
  
"I told you, you do not have to do this....." he gave a final show of resistance.  
  
She became all business. "It is not because I am after your money-I actually hate those politicians who think money makes the world go round. It is not because I pity you-You can ask Himura, I hated you all over again when I saw those papers. It is not because I feel sorry for you-You are too strong a person for that. It is definitely not because I hate Aoshi-sama- Even you know that I think the world of him."  
  
This new woman scared even the former mafia boss, familiar with strong and dangerous women. She was determined, more than he had ever seen. She was resolute, more than she had ever been in her life. She had indeed weighed her options and her risks. She knew what she was getting into.  
  
"Has it come to your attention, gentlemen, that I could refuse you BOTH?" she defiantly declared.  
  
The two men looked at each other. Hard to admit, but she was right.  
  
"I did not do that, though."  
  
She looked again at the businessman.  
  
"You did not hide me under your shadow. You made me shine for myself. That is my reason."  
  
"Only because you did---" he interrupted.  
  
"Enishi," she grinned, and put a finger to his lips, "you talk too much."  
  
He smiled slightly in return.  
  
But he noticed the small tears forming at the sides of her eyes, as she glanced with longing at the conquered. The okashira tried to hide his defeat behind a face of stone, but the young woman knew him well enough to see beyond it. The snowhaired man saw that in her miserable eyes. He knew how she wanted to embrace him again, to console him, to make him understand that the decision hurt her as well.  
  
He understood her pain, but it also pained him to accept it. Still, he felt somewhat responsible, and he felt a new settlement must be arranged.  
  
He gestured to the okashira, and led him a few meters away from the young woman. They talked earnestly for five agonizing minutes. Misao saw Enishi gesturing and discussing with animation, as Aoshi calmly nodded and shook his head in intervals. At last, Enishi gave a final desperate proposal, to which Aoshi agreed.  
  
They returned.  
  
"My dear weasel..." Enishi began.  
  
"What did you just say?!" she playfully readied her fighting stance.  
  
He did not seem to realize his mistake. "...Do you recall that ring I let you borrow for a while?"  
  
"The sealing ring. Of course, it's at the Aioya in a box. You need it back?" she asked in confusion.  
  
He shook his head and smiled. "Do you remember the paper that came with it?"  
  
She nodded, and quoted. " 'The bearer of the ring must be given full access... Any man who defies these words will answer for it with his life.' "  
  
"Good. I want you to keep it, my dear weasel. As your engagement ring."  
  
She did not hear him right, right? "My, engagement ring? What is an engagement ring?"  
  
"In the West, a man gives a woman a ring, as a token that she has accepted his proposal of marriage. It's worn during the engagement period. It is replaced by the wedding ring once they are married," he explained. "A lot of the young women in Shanghai expect that of their fiancée."  
  
"What does all that trivia have to do with me, Enishi?"  
  
He took off his glasses, and looked into her beautiful jade eyes. "Misao, I know what Shinomori means to you. I know what your friends mean to you. I do not feel it is right for me to just whisk you away, just to be with me, even if you have decided. Therefore, this is what Shinomori and I have agreed upon."  
  
He cleared his throat and explained. "In two weeks, I will be leaving for Shanghai, alone. I will come back for you in a year. So, you can still be with your Aoshi-sama and your other friends for the time being. The ring is my promise. I will come back for you, and when I come back, I will marry you then. The ring is also your protection. Just in case I manage to get in trouble, you can use the ring to access any information, whether in Japan or in China."  
  
Her mind flew back for a few seconds to a man with the same features but a different personality. A few short months ago, this was the man who would have moved heaven and earth, to make her come with him. Was he, seriously, willingly, relinquishing his right to have her? Was he truly thinking about the feelings of his rival and of his beloved? This was another man before her, indeed!  
  
"Let me get this straight," Misao tried to take in everything. She was a little girl, being told her beloved brother was not going away. "I can stay with Aoshi-sama?"  
  
"For another year, yes."  
  
Then her face revealed hopeful love. "But you will be back?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The arrangement was just fine with her. A longer time to adjust, a longer time to comprehend and to understand the long-term implications of her choice. It did not mean she would take it back, but it did mean she would better know what she was getting into.  
  
"Thank you for reading my mind."  
  
He did not answer. He took her hand, and led her to his opponent.  
  
The okashira met the eyes of the businessman, and gave a slow military nod. "Thank you."  
  
Misao looked back in gratitude at the snowhaired man, then hugged the okashira for all she was worth. "I'm not going away! I won't be leaving you! I'm so glad!" She looked like a woman released from an untimely and innocent death. He embraced her back gratefully.  
  
"Women, they really cannot make up their minds, can they?" Enishi murmured and smirked as he cocked his glasses back over his eyes. He began to walk down the hill, sadly chuckling, his Chinese suit fluttering in the late afternoon breeze.  
...........  
  
Yes, women can't make up their minds. I am one of them. ^^  
  
On this author's word of honor, she did not simply toss a coin to make a decision. I've worried plenty about it, about my peace of mind, about the rationale, about what Firuze Khanume and CardMistressSakura (the most ardent supporters of either side) would say.  
  
I figured that this was the most rational ending, considering the background I have made for the story. I know I didn't treat both men fairly. One got more airtime and chances than the other. I know, either way I go, I would be leaving one man depressed for the rest of his life, for the loss of a woman. But one has to win. That's the point of a triangle. You guys would throw stones at me more if I didn't let anyone win. Midori, Iceangel, tesuka-chan, and Sabbie might eventually have other ideas, but their choices are not mine.  
  
For some reason, it did not feel right to give either man the full victory, though. Misao has no ill feelings for either man, so I don't think it would be right if she was truly forced to reject one of them completely for the other. Thus, it turned out like this.  
  
I know that I don't completely satisfy Enishi fans or Aoshi fans this way, but I have the most peace of mind with this ending. I hope you all understand. You all have NO idea how much I've thought and thought and thought and lost sleep and thought and lost sleep....about this predicament.  
  
This is the first time I made a story where I personally choose the ending. Seven Days and Nine Months, being solid K/K stories, had an implied ending I would be happy with. Nine Months, being a pregnancy fic, had an obvious ending I can work and aim at. White and Black's ending, therefore, has been sheer torture.  
  
Reviews and criticism are welcome. Deadly weapons aren't, though!! I want to stay alive to write another RK fic!  
  
Congratulations to chitchat, nekonomiko, bittersweetKandy, Mi. My sincere apologies to CardMistressSakura, bee, hmikomi. If it's any consolation to you guys, it was really a tough choice.  
  
(Dallisse-I'll go back to your fics, I promise. Thanks for putting me in the faves list!) (JML-I do hope you become someone like Michael Crichton.) (Cat H-I hope you understand now why I said Alias is an inspiration for the final chapters.) (Luli451-Yes, you can keep the other guy! ^^) (Bee-Thanks, and I hope you weren't too disappointed.) (CardMistressSakura-I am really sorry to have tagged you along for so long and disappoint you at the end. (bows low) I am very very sorry.) (Mi- Yes, you got what you wanted.) (BittersweetKandy-I think Misao CAN commit to a serious relationship. She did adore her Aoshi-sama for YEARS!) (Nekonomiko-Long time no see! ^^) (Iceangel-I hope you don't mind if I say I like Solasido lots as well. ^^) (Hmikomi---Thanks for reading for so long! I am so so sorry to disappoint you.) (Chitchat-Thanks for liking the bluebird part!) (Firuze-nee-san---I can't believe you rooted for the other guy!) (Sabbie-Three endings?! I already had enough trouble with this one!) (Tiian-Yeah, you're right about balance in dialogue and description. Midori-sempai gets it perfectly right. ^^)  
There will be one last chapter and an epilogue, so I hope to see you all again, pretty please? ^^ 


	20. a last meeting

To Firuze Khanume, the greatest Enishi supporter; to CardMistressSakura, the greatest Aoshi supporter; to everybody in between; to everybody who has been objective enough to accept an alternate pairing, I give you the final chapter of White and Black.  

I thank everybody who has supported this, and kept me inspired to finish until the end. Thank you all for supporting something, that started as a way to cure writer's block.   Thanks for coming along on the journey of discovery.  

As to the focus with friendship, rather than the getting-on and the romance, prevalent in White and Black.  Friendship is the building block of the other two, and who knows what Eni-chan could have been if he had met better people and made friends when he was younger.  I prefer a love based on friendship, than one only based on passion.  Passion dies; friendship lasts.   ^_^  

The opening paragraph comes from my copy of _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_, as translated from the French by Anthony Bonner for Bantam.   The quote in the third paragraph comes from "The Greatest Thing", it was used in Moulin Rouge.   _Je t'aime_ is French for "I love you".   A quote in the middle is from Reader's Digest's Word Power, of all places.  ^^

………………………………………

_"…if Captain Nemo still inhabits the ocean—the country of his adoption—then may the hatred be appeased in his savage heart! May the contemplation of so many wonders extinguish in him the spirit of revenge! … However strange his destiny may be, it is also sublime! …" _

Captain Nemo had a lot of things in common with himself, Yukishiro Enishi mused.  He was a cultured and intelligent man. He was a master tactician and an able businessman, whenever he was not one of the best scientists in his time.  He, like he as the reader once before, lived for revenge on people he thought had wronged him.   

Like and unlike the underwater captain, Enishi had seen wonders in his life, that helped remove the spirit of revenge in him. He had been forgiven by sister, brother-in-law, former enemies. He had been re-introduced to the joy of life, and the beauty in the world. He had been taught the "greatest thing" one will ever learn: "to love, and be loved in return."    

His destiny in life was strange, yet it was also sublime.  

He closed his copy of _Vingt mille lieues sous les mers. _ He had finally finished the book, after many months. The book reminded him more now of his feisty weasel, rather than himself.  The afternoons they spent, with him reading and translating, and she listening with eager anticipation.  The weeks he left the book unopened, as they were separated from each other by force. The evening he read without translating, distracted by her beautiful kimono and charming hair.  The final month that he read without her, unsure of what she really felt.  

The feisty weasel was now beside him on the sofa facing the fireplace, fast asleep with a smile on her face, her head leaned on his shoulder. His arm was over her back, and he felt her quiet breaths. It was the evening before he was to leave for Shanghai by the afternoon steamer.  

It was their last night together.    

_Déjà vu. _He had been in this situation before. This time, the feeling was more intense. He wanted to _know_ her. He wanted to remember her. In every way, in every aspect, just before he left. He wanted to touch her, hold her, embrace her, be with her.  He wanted to really feel, body and soul, what it was to be, with this incredible young woman.  By the gods, how he wanted to savor her, just for that brief moment, and treasure the memory. The only moment of perfect happiness in his life!

Just one night.  Just one night! 

Just this one night. This last night.     

He scooped her up carefully in his arms, making sure that he did not wake her. He cradled her head near his chest, and carried her to the adjacent bedroom.  He then lay her slowly on the soft and large English bed. Still she did not waken.  

So far, so good.  

He loosened her hair from its braids, untangling them with his firm yet gentle hands. He took off her socks, and ran his fingers lightly through her feet, her legs, her thighs. His hands went back up to her waist, and to the strings that bound her looser uniform together. He only had to undo them.  

His palms began to sweat. This was a normal progression of things, so why was he concerned? 

Because this was not any other woman. She was Misao.  

To her, he was a gentleman.  

He tucked her into the bed, with the uniform strings still unloosened. He then left to change into his own bedclothes. A simple undershirt properly tucked into cotton trousers. It was rather cool that evening, for him to sleep bare-chested. And, he was still in the presence of a woman not entirely his yet. This was no common woman of the streets. He longed for her, more than for any other woman he had encountered, yet he would wait for her to say yes.  

He earnestly hoped, though, that she would not object if he made her sleep beside him, just that evening. He slipped under the covers beside her. 

She was even more angelic in sleep than in wakefulness. Her chest heaved gracefully with each breath under her dark clothes. Her apple-red lips were slightly open as she slumbered on, tempting him to taste them. Her eyelids covered her eyes, mystifying emeralds that took his breath away. Her cheeks, rosy from the cool night air, reminded him of the velvety texture of sweet, perfumed peaches.  All of her shook his senses and his whole being to the core, all of her being so close to him.  

He drew himself closer to her, savoring the only thing he dared to do: a succession of tender kisses to her shoulder, neck and cheek.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, and felt the warmth of her back against his chest.  He held her thus, and thanked this life beside his for being there.  

He did not realize how many minutes had passed, when he felt her back resonate, and heard her sweet voice sing softly.  

Itsumo, itsumo
    
    Boku ga, kimi o
    
    Mite te, ageru kara
    
    Anshin shite, oyasumi

"You're awake," he gently kissed her hand. He cuddled even closer, as he whispered in her ear, "You do not mind?"  

She turned to face him, smiled, and shook her head.  
    
    Kizu tsuke au koto ni
    
    Narete shimatta, kono sekai
    
    Soko de bokurawa, umare
    
    Sodatta

Several months ago, if anyone told these two what they would someday be in a bed together, both would have laughed to his face. What do we have in common? 

Yet, right now, no one would deny that there was a wonderful and unique bond between them.  

Yin and yang, the principles of harmony and balance. The dark and feminine yin complements the bright and masculine yang. 

Opposite yet complementary, their interaction influences destiny. 

_"Je t'aime, mademoiselle,"_ he whispered as he kissed her forehead, afraid to break the delicate, spellbinding magic. 

_"Je t'aime," _ she imitated, not knowing what the words meant, but understanding perfectly the emotion they spoke. 

She undid the laces of her garment, silently, slowly. 

He could not believe it. "A-A-are you c-cer-certain?"  He stuttered. He could not believe, he refused to believe, that this beautiful woman, the one who has brought him back to life, was ready to give him such an undeserved prize.  

She smiled as a sole response, loosening each sleeve from her arms, kissing him softly in his cheek.  He replied with a tender touch to her bare shoulders, and a caress to her waist. 

He looked for reassurance deep into her jade eyes, and found no sign of fear or regret. She looked far into his, and saw passion controlled with respect.   

He brought her closer again, until their warmth became one.     

Thus, the rising sun found an unlikely couple together, perfectly united at last. One in their similarities, one in their differences. 

"I don't want you to go," she said amid soft sobs, her head nestled over his chest, her arms over his waist. 

"I have to," he quietly answered with pain and regret, his hands running through her long dark tresses.  

"I don't want the evening to end…….," she implored. 

"Unfortunately, time waits for no one." 

"Like I have to wait for you……." 

"Like I have to wait for you."

He gave her a final memorable kiss, and shared her breath with his own for one last time.  

"Thank you, for every single moment."  

He continued to hold her lovingly, as they watched the lights come through the window.   

…………………………..

"Do you remember when we met in Tokyo?" she giggled over her breakfast. Anything to get both their minds off the time they would part. 

"Your face was a deep red, and you were very mad at being caught," he smiled at the remembrance, composedly sipping his tea. 

"You were very, very scary, you know! You forced me to have lunch with you!" 

"You were not exactly the most ladylike woman I have met!" he sneered with teasing eyes. 

"Well, you were not the perfect gentleman yourself!" she retorted, folded her arms before her, and scowled.  

It was exactly what Misao looked like during that most unusual luncheon, that Enishi was unable to control his mirthful laughter.  

It was wonderful to hear that glee after over a month, and it was refreshing to him to be laughing that way after so long. It was a good two minutes before he noticed that she looked at him intently, the way he looked at her with curious eyes on that memorable encounter. 

"You're not that man anymore," she simply said. 

"The white-haired, pompous, exasperating, infuriating, arrogant, conceited baka?" he quoted with a smirk.  

"Yes, that man," she smiled. 

"Well, what am I now, you evil magician?" he teased.  

She looked deep into his turquoise eyes. "In your words, a trustworthy ally, a reliable companion, a dependable associate….." 

"A friend," he gratefully finished. 

"I think that's what you call it," she imitated him from those earlier days. She reached for his hand from across the small table in the terrace, and held it tenderly. 

"A friend……and more," he added.    

"Definitely."  

He frowned. "I have to go back and be that man you met, you do realize that?" 

She patted the hand she held. "No, you don't. You just have to be who you are now. I'll be here, and I'll make sure of that."  

"You are truly beyond knowing, Makimachi Misao, weasel of the Kyoto Oniwabanshuu." He took the hand over his, and kissed it.   

"For the last time, I am NOT a weasel!" she protested as she smiled.    

 The hours crawled on, ever nearer to that dreaded time. 

All of his business documents had been put in order days before. Officially, he still ran the metalworks factory; he would just be conducting trade relations and business deals in Shanghai and Hong Kong.  The mafia would know that he was building up his weapons trade again, under the cover of legitimate business.  A few key members of the police in Shanghai, Tokyo, and Kyoto, would be informed of his movements.   

Final letters to several people took up most of his morning.  A long letter to inform his brother-in-law about his departure.  A letter to his childhood acquaintance and associate, in gratitude for his trust and support.  A short letter to the keeper of the temple, ensuring the safekeeping of his sister's diary.                          

He did not have to close down the house, as his associate would have its full use again after he left. Most of his clothes had been stuffed into trunks yesterday morning.  Enishi himself packed his most intimate belongings in the two trunks Misao saw before, filled with dresses meant for her.  He had offered one of the frocks from that time, something to wear to the docks.  She refused it, opting to wear her usual clothes.  

She wanted to be remembered, the way she always was with him. A simple young woman, not the prettiest, not the best dressed, not the fairest.  But she was his. His love, his fiancée. 

More than anything else, his friend.   

They arrived at the docks by carriage.  She in the dark uniform, he in the light silk suit.  He descended first, ever the elegant gentleman, and held her by the hand as she went down herself. 

Awaiting the pair was the okashira, his leather trenchcoat shielding him from the strong sea breeze. His face was passive, and neither could read the emotions the mask hid.   His crystal eyes, however, betrayed a little of the anguish the icy exterior kept frozen.   

"Shinomori Aoshi," Enishi addressed the okashira.  "I apologize for giving you such a difficult time. I apologize for all my ungentlemanly conduct. Most of all, I apologize for………for………." 

"No apologies required for that, Yukishiro," Aoshi interrupted. "It was her choice."  

"I suppose." Enishi offered his hand. "Thank you for all you have done.  Take good care of Misao. Not for me.  Just……..take good care of her."  

"Aa," was his only reply, as he shook the offered hand.  

Enishi faced Misao again, and held her by her shoulders.  "Continue to live for your Aoshi-sama, alright? He will always need your loving support. He might not show it, but he needs you." 

She tearfully nodded. 

"I will never forget everything that has happened between us. I am a better man for it. Thank you. Until we meet again." 

He took up his traveling case, turned his back on Aoshi and Misao, and walked quickly toward the steamship. His purple glasses hid a few tears that threatened to form over his eyes.  

Suddenly he heard his name called loudly behind him. 

His weasel was running after him like a little girl.  

She stopped and panted before him, then looked up at him with a beaming face. She took his hand, and slipped something into one of his fingers.  He peered down at it in astonishment. 

"The sealing ring………..I asked you to keep it, didn't I? Does this mean……" he looked at her eyes, desperately sought the reason why she was giving back, what he called her engagement ring.   

She saw the fear in his face, and shook her head.  "I will keep my promise, do not worry. But you need the ring more than I do. Wear it always, and never forget me."

The symbol of yin and yang emblazoned the beautiful pearl ring. A remembrance of differences that unite, of divergence that convenes.  The meeting, of white and black.  

He smiled. "I promise."     

…………………………

Translation for above song (from chapter 4, taken from Now and Then Here and There): 

Always, as always I do  
I have  
My eye on you  
Please sleep free from anxiety  
  
People have been inured to  
Wounding and injuring in this world  
There, we were  
Born and bred

It can be safely said now that, had it not been for Firuze's review in chapter 6, White and Black would be a more inferior piece.  A drugging incident, a kidnap, an escape—essentially resulting in an obvious ending in Aoshi's favor.   Because of her review, and a nice long email with a lot of suggestions, my thinking got rewired, and this is the result.  A story where even I, the writer, got confused on who will get the girl in the end.  

Always, eternal gratitude to Watsuki Nobuhiro, who gave the world such an intriguing final nemesis for our favorite redhead.  May he someday make another manga masterpiece.  

Thank yous to the following: 

Midori Natari Himura.  I understand White Tiger Jade Concubine is a dare that has become more than what it initially thought it would be.  Thank you for convincing me for good that E/M is possible, and that I'm not alone with this idea.  My thanks to JML for directing me to WTJC in the first place. 

Firuze Khanume.  White and Black would not be running for 20 chapters without you.  Thank you for all the insights into the Enishi-an psyche, and the Aoshi-an psyche as well.  ^^   Thanks for being one of the few, really constructive reviewers.  Thanks for the final help with this chappie. More power to your website.   

CardMistressSakura.  For never making me forget the other side of the issue, the view of the Aoshi fan.  ^^  

ICEANGEL, tesuka-chan, Sabbie.  For picking up where I leave off, and writing such EXCELLENT fics for the E/M/A triangle.  No kidding, I really like your work!   Thank you for staying until the end.  

BittersweetKandy, chitchat, Ro-chan, Tiian, Dallisse, Mi, Devil, and everyone above.  For reviewing whenever they could, and staying with the fic until the end.    

Cleao, Chavi West-wind, Amy, Mikazuki, Filia M, Siomei, Phelin, nekonomiko, Bella, Marah, Zauriel, Yen, Fehrocious, Crystal, AyceShade, ewunia, Devil, Nia, Max, Kyanos, Fan, Dragowolf, eloquent-lotus, Shadowfox, JML, bee, Luli451, hmikomi, len, Cat H, anime pixie.    Thank you all for reviewing.  

(JML—The kids will probably end up with black hair too, since Enishi started with black hair.  ^^ )  (Firuze-nee-san—Don't pressure yourself to let Nishi stay with Jihan! Keep up the great work!) (Sabbie—Thanks much. Hope to hear more from you and your work!) 

(Cat—YUM! Chocolate sundae! Thanks for understanding the choice and its implications. Yeah, I read WTJC too, and I fully believe Misao can handle anything Shanghai throws on her.)  (Bee—Yikes! Thanks for the high compliments!)   (Len—You have no IDEA how much thought I had to do for that chappie! Thanks for liking it!)  (Dallisse—Thanks much!)   (Anime pixie—Oh, yeah! But women don't want to hurt people's feelings, that's why they can't make up their minds!)   (CardMistressSakura—A/M fic? Love on Tour, uploaded already. I'm really really sorry.  At any rate, that's why I wrote it that way, so it won't be TOO awful for Aoshi-sama.  ^^)  (Mi—Thanks much!) (Iceangel—Wow, I have a convert! Highest compliment, thank you. Too many questions, which I don't have the answers to yet, either, sorry!  Oh, I have to fight your sister for Solasido?  ^^  It's horrible what they did to Musica, ne?)   (Chitchat—What I meant was, sure Misao liked the idea of being with Eni-chan, but so SOON desert Aoshi-sama? Sorry I got you confused.  I figured also that Eni-chan would not believe his good fortune, so his outburst are his way of convincing himself, "This ain't real, man!" As to Eni and Mi hugging or something, this chappie answers it hopefully?)   (bittersweetKandy—Oh, dear, out of the frying pan and into the fire.  Thanks for the questions anyway!)  (Tiian—Yes, it was hard to choose. Thanks for liking it!)   

An epilogue chapter comes after this.  Thanks for reading!  


	21. epilogue: a simple letter

This song gets on your nerves. Like "Passenger Seat", I loved it ever since I first heard it over the radio.  I've pestered my brother countless times, singing the chorus at random.  ^^  I thought it was so appropriate to the ending I chose.  So appropriate, in fact, that I don't have to add a lot to it.  

I hope you enjoy this, a final farewell songfic.  Think back on EK's White and Black, an experiment from a mental block, when you hear it again.   

"If You're Not the One" by Daniel Bedingfield.  

………………………………………………

Shanghai

Monday

                I'm writing this in a hotel room. One of the larger suites. The trunks are still unopened by my bed.  

                I was not able to get any sleep last night.  Everything was a blur, even when everything was clear. It felt like I had come home. After all, I had lived here for years.  The streets were all familiar, the sights and sounds too common. There were some new buildings, but the city is still very much the same. The city I called home. 

But somehow, this is not home anymore.  Home is somewhere with you. I don't care if that is the end of the world.  

                I still remember that evening I was last with you. Your hair, your eyes, your lips, your scent, your everything.  For a few hours, only you existed. And you were with me. Everything was perfect. Everything was right.  I still recall the thoughts that ran through my head, as I held you close to me:     

If you're not the one then why does my soul feel glad today?  
If you're not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way?  
If you are not mine then why does your heart return my call?  
If you are not mine would I have the strength to stand at all?

                Then you turned to face me, and you gave such a perfect smile.  There was peace in your eyes.  There was sincerity. Most of all, there was love. You love me, and that is enough.     

I never know what the future brings  
But I know you are here with me now  
We'll make it through  
And I hope you are the one I share my life with

                Then I remembered him. I have finally come to understand what you see in him. He is truly a loyal comrade, a man who acts more than he speaks. It was an honor to have met him, while it has also been supreme agony.  

                One part of me wanted to tear him apart, limb from limb, as I saw you embrace him after our final agreement.  I wanted to believe that your heart belonged to me, and to me alone.  I know he is your friend, father, brother, and all that, but I still feel like I have lost to a rival.  Maybe your heart does belong to me, and for that I am grateful.  But one part, some place deep, is a part I could never touch, and there he will stay. 

I don't want to run away but I can't take it, I don't understand  
If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am?  
Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

                However, there is another part of me that wants him to live on. I would never want to see you sad again, even for my sake. You have the right to shed your radiance on others, the way you shined on my life.  I know he gives you a certain kind of joy that I never could, and you deserve to have that joy while I cannot be with you, while an ocean separates us.  

                Even then, even then……….

If I don't need you then why am I crying on my bed?  
If I don't need you then why does your name resound in my head?  
If you're not for me then why does this distance maim my life?  
If you're not for me then why do I dream of you as my wife?

Yes, I still want to marry you. By the gods, I still do. By all that is in me, I still do. 

My head is full of dreams, of nightmares. Of the times we were together, of the times we were apart. Of times when I would have nothing to do with you. Of times when my world would not turn without you.   

I have only to look out the window and view the waters beyond, to be reminded of the distance between us. It is not beneath me to cry, if there is a reason.  This is reason enough and plenty.  

I remember how my sister used to cook dinner for me, and worry about me. How she smiled as she saw me through the kitchen window, and how she greeted me "welcome home" as I came through the door.  Someday, in a house of my own, I want the woman who would think and worry and scold me, to be you.   

I don't know why you're so far away  
But I know that this much is true  
We'll make it through  
And I hope you are the one I share my life with  
And I wish that you could be the one I die with  
And I pray that you're the one I build my home with  
I hope I love you all my life

                Why does it have to be this way?! Why do I have to leave you? Why can't we be together, even now? Why does life and circumstance have to be so cruel?  

I don't want to run away but I can't take it, I don't understand  
If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am  
Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

'Cause I miss you, body and soul so strong that it takes my breath away  
And I breathe you into my heart and pray for the strength to stand today  
'Cause I love you, whether it's wrong or right  
And though I can't be with you tonight  
You know my heart is by your side

                Only that keeps me moving on, and will keep me moving on over the next year. The promise that you will be there for me when I come back. That, once again, you will wrap your lithe arms around me, and tell me that you love me. That, someday, I will be with you forever.  

I don't want to run away but I can't take it, I don't understand  
If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am  
Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?   

                There is no way we can be together right now. It is too dangerous for both of us. This might probably be the last letter you will receive from me for months on end.  However, I will always have you in my thoughts and dreams, as I hope you have me in yours.  A day will not pass that I will not think of you.  

                I used to live dangerously and carelessly. I only had to think of myself then. I can no longer live like that. Because now, I have to stay alive, at all cost.  I have to win. I have to come back to you. 

                I used to consider that way of thinking, a weakness, an easy way to take a man down.  I now consider it one of my strengths.  

Take care of yourself, my love.  

……………………..

Conversation between two operatives:  

"Where did this packet come from?" 

"Shanghai. No return address, no signature, no identifying marks, but the sender used one of our code mailing addresses. The one only used for emergencies." 

"I see. And the contents?" 

"No new information, just sweet nothings to a woman." 

"Anyone in particular?"  

"No specifics." 

"Thank you. ………..Give it to Misao; she will know what to do with it."  

"Hai, okashira."  __

……………………

My final thanks for all the reviews to the final chapter:  JML, chitchat, Sabbie (yeah, I like "One Night" too), Dallisse, nekonomiko, CardMistressSakura, Mi, Devil, ICEANGEL (A/M? We'll see), Firuze Khanume (no chance I'm winning at Nikki Diary, not even nominated at RKRC. Hope you'll remember me for next year's RKRC?  ^^ ), Tiian, bittersweetKandy      

That is definitely the end of White and Black.  Again, my sincere thanks to everybody who had a hand in it. Thanks to all who reviewed it.  Thanks to all who voted for it.   Thanks to all who read it.  

If there will be more, remains to be seen.  One can only push the Nine Months story so far.  ^^  We'll see.  

EK out.   


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